Interrupted
by Terp4Life
Summary: That night in the bar in 219... SO close! So I had to take matters into my own hands, and this is what happened. Jeller fluff and heart eyes.
1. 5 More Minutes

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

He'd suddenly looked so serious. Granted, he was often serious, but the atmosphere among the four of them that night at the bar, and even between the two of them after Patterson and Zapata had gone to get another round of drinks, had been lighthearted. It was nice to see that side of him, to see that things between them had become so comfortable that they were able to spend time together outside of work.

The fact that he'd been sitting beside her, facing in _her_ direction and not the table and the rest of the group, like the three women… well that was a coincidence to which she hadn't given a second thought. And the fact that once Patterson and Zapata got up in search of drinks, she swore she felt like he'd slowly moved closer to her, both of them bathed in the warm glow of the small candles on the table in front of them? That was also obviously a coincidence.

 _Wasn't it?_

All of a sudden, it didn't feel like one, and her heart began beating faster despite the fact that she knew that she was overreacting.

 _Wasn't she?_ The more he spoke, the less it seemed that way. The more he spoke, the less real it all seemed.

"All of this… it led me to you. And you to me."

She breathed in deliberately, surprised at what she was hearing. _Is this really happening?_ she wondered. But he wasn't done.

"And that is something that I would _never_ want to undo."

He was looking directly into her eyes and saying these words, and she had to keep reminding herself that this was not her imagination. This was something she'd never even _let_ herself imagine. It was more in line with some of the dreams she'd had, the ones that were so painful to wake up from because she felt an aching loss every time she realized that they hadn't been real. But, as incredible as it seemed, this wasn't a dream.

After everything she'd done, everything they'd been through, to end up here… It was unbelievable – far more than she'd let herself hope for after everything had fallen apart between them.

Her mind was struggling to process the words he was saying as she mostly looked into his eyes as well, with the occasional glance away, just for a second, because the intensity – as pleasant as it was – was overwhelming. It was hard to remember to _breathe_.

They began to move towards each other at almost the same time, Kurt closing the distance just a little faster, but Jane's face moving towards his as well.

There were only a very few inches left between them, if that much, even, their eyes already closed, when Patterson's voice announced their friends' return.

"Here we go, round three," the blonde called as she approached the table.

Jane paused, moved back slightly and then looked up at him, his face now directly in front of hers, his eyes now open and looking into hers in just as much surprise as there was on _her_ face.

"Yeah," she whispered as she turned back to face away from him, towards the table. He remained facing her, Patterson and Zapata approaching from behind him, so that they couldn't see how his face twisted into a strange variation of a smile, a combination of surprise and frustration.

"The one with all the answers," Patterson promised.

 _Did that really just happen?_ he thought, still slightly in shock. _We got that close, and then…_

While he loved Zapata and Patterson like sisters, just then he hated them as though they were his sisters as well. His mind was reeling from what had just almost, but not quite, happened, and all he could think of was figuring out when his next opportunity would be when it _could_ happen _,_ without another interruption.

"Awesome!" he declared, pounding the table and moving back to where he'd been sitting when the other two had left, still facing Jane.

He laughed nervously as their two friends sat back down, none the wiser, because really, what else _could_ he do? If Zapata and Patterson had taken _two seconds longer_ coming back with the drinks, he would have been kissing Jane when they came back to the table. Of course, that wouldn't have been ideal, either, but…

 _Dammit._

Jane kept her eyes down, still shocked and, she could admit it, disappointed. As Zapata and Patterson settled themselves at the table and handed everyone their next round of drinks, Jane glanced up at Kurt again, seeing his eyes twinkling in the candlelight as he looked back at her for a second. She couldn't decide if she was imagining it, or if his gaze rested on her for longer than normal. It was tempting to believe that the expression on his face meant something, but the thought was also a little scary.

 _He just almost kissed you,_ _ **would have**_ _kissed you, if Zapata and Patterson hadn't intervened,_ the voice in her head reminded her as if it was blatantly obvious. _**Of course**_ _that look on his face, the one he only gets when he looks at_ _ **you**_ _, means something._

The conversation continued on between the four of them, Jane suddenly quieter than she had been, but the other women not finding anything necessarily strange about that by itself – at least not at first. Within a few minutes, however, Patterson began to notice that something seemed somehow different between the pair sitting across the table from her. When she tried to put her finger on it, she traced it back to when she and Zapata had gotten up to get the third round. Things had seemed normal before then, but Jane hadn't said a word since they'd come back.

 _They both looked slightly flushed when we sat down_ , _come to think of it,_ Patterson decided, wondering what had happened between them in their short absence. Her mind jolted forward suddenly. _Wait!_ it cried. _Did something_ _ **happen**_ _between them…_ Her thoughts were suddenly alight with possibilities. Had she and Zapata inadvertently interrupted something between them?

Looking back up from Jane to Kurt, she now looked for additional clues. After all, she was a keen observer of human nature, and a trained FBI agent. She could certainly figure this out – she knew these two almost as well as she knew herself. Jane looked more subdued than usual, and she kept glancing quickly at Weller with an expression to which Patterson was not accustomed and couldn't immediately identify. Weller, on the other hand, looked slightly more _animated_ than usual. It was like they had both gone to opposite extremes, neither one of them quite acting like themselves.

"Hey, Zapata, I need to talk to you for a second," Patterson said, as casually as she could. She knew that subtlety wasn't her strong suit, however, at that moment she didn't care. Standing up, drink in hand, she quickly pulled a confused Zapata, who grabbed her drink as well, along with her from the table, as she dragged her towards the other end of the bar, around the corner and out of sight.

Kurt chuckled as the two of them watched Patterson lead Zapata away. "I think she may be onto us," he said, immediately moving closer to Jane, whose eyes had followed the two women out of sight and now focused on Kurt. When she looked back at him, to her surprise, he was suddenly almost as close as he'd been when they'd failed to kiss just a few minutes before.

"You think so?" she asked, not sure what else to say, or even how she felt about the other two figuring out what was going on.

He shrugged, grinning. "It seems like it. Patterson's pretty smart, after all, and she probably read us pretty easily. That's the problem with working with FBI agents who are so good at their jobs, I suppose…" His face was now even closer to hers, and once again she was alternating between looking up at him and looking down self-consciously for a few seconds at a time.

"Either way," he continued, "might as well take advantage of it." He was still slowly moving closer to her, his knee now brushing the side of her leg.

"You don't think they'll interrupt us again?" she asked. As much as she wanted to kiss him, she was still flustered from their last near miss.

"I don't care if they do," he said. "Next time I say we just keep going. They're smart… they'll get the hint." He grinned at her, their faces now close enough that his nose brushed against hers, and he held it there, the slight contact making them both more than a little bit giddy with anticipation.

Her face had been full of tension up until then, he'd noticed, but she smiled at his last comment, relaxing noticeably, finally letting herself surrender to the moment.

 _It's really going to happen this time,_ she thought, still in disbelief.

"Sounds like an excellent plan to me," she whispered, her eyes closing as he finally leaned forward across the last few inches that had separated them.

He smiled at her response, just a fraction of a second before their lips met, so that he was smiling into the kiss, a sensation that he'd never felt before. They didn't have as much privacy this time as the other two times they'd kissed, though they weren't exactly in the middle of a crowd. A table in a bar, even a dark, secluded corner table, was still slightly more public than an empty, darkened sidewalk or a deserted locker room, after all, especially with their friends waiting around the corner and, if he knew them, probably spying on them at that very moment. Honestly, he didn't care. As long as he _finally_ got to kiss Jane again, nothing else mattered just then.

The kiss started slowly, almost uncertainly. It wasn't just simply a kiss between two people who were infatuated with each other, after all – though it could certainly be argued that they were _also_ that. There was so much emotion between the two of them – there had been even at the very beginning, the first time she'd touched his face, after all – and now there was so much more than there had been before… It was all reflected in this kiss. This time, far more than either of the other two – which had each been perfect in their own way at the times that they had happened – the moment just felt… right.

As much as neither of them wanted to stop, even besides the fact that they needed air after a few minutes, because they were in a public place they slowly pulled back just enough to look into each other's eyes, both of their faces twinkling in the candlelight. He looked at her intensely, happy to see that unlike before, when she'd looked so self-conscious, so hesitant, almost nervous, she was now smiling warmly back at him, her eyes not darting away, but simply looking into his. That look matched how he felt, and he was fairly sure he had a goofy, love struck smile on _his_ face, as well, one that was at least as big as hers, if not bigger.

"That's better," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. Her smile intensified, and her eyes fell closed once again, from the sheer intensity of her emotions just then.

"Yeah," was all she managed to whisper, which made him smile.

"We're going to have to do that again," he told her, a hint of insistence in his voice. He felt movement against his forehead as she chuckled quietly.

"Please tell me we don't have to go through Hell again first," she whispered, a slight hint of sadness in her voice. Her concern, while it sounded silly at first, was actually based on what had really happened after the other two times they'd kissed. They _had_ gone through Hell after each of those kisses, and he felt a slight ache in his chest that that would be one of the first things she thought of this time. It shouldn't have to be like that. He wanted her to feel happiness, and nothing else.

"Not only will we _not_ be doing that," he whispered without missing a beat, moving his forehead along hers without breaking contact until his leaned against her right temple, "we won't be waiting nearly that long." He kissed her cheek lightly, his right hand finding hers sitting on her right leg, squeezing it gently.

She felt herself surrendering to the dizzying feeling of joy that seemed to wrap around her at that moment. That kiss they'd just shared wasn't just something that had simply _happened_ , past tense. No, this was something that he purposely _wanted_ – more specifically, that he wanted to _keep_ happening. Her stomach continued flipping with excitement, the warmth of this thought spreading slowly throughout her whole body as it penetrated her consciousness. At the same time that she was being overcome with happiness, she felt the sensation of doubt in the pit of her stomach, and it made her wince slightly before she could stop herself.

Leaning back and opening his eyes, he looked at her with concern, dismayed to see that her smile had faded and in its place he saw… was it _fear?_

"It's not going to happen this time, Jane," he said in a low, soothing voice, somehow recognizing her worry without her having to voice it. That was just how tuned into her he was.

Her eyes remained on him, and she smiled weakly but looked unconvinced.

"I'm not saying everything is going to be perfect," he said with a smile, "I think we both know better than to think that things will be easy for us…" Shepherd and Sandstorm were still out there, after all, and as long as that was true, their futures would be more uncertain than he was comfortable with. "But now we know better," he finished.

"Know better about what?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

His smile widened, and he kissed her temple. "We know better than to think that _this_ ," he paused and just looked into her eyes before continuing, "is something we can deny. I know that I can't."

Her response was immediate, as her smile returned, her face lighting up once again as she leaned her head against his, feeling her doubts dissipate, the knot in her stomach unclenching. Kurt turned slightly toward the bar, keeping contact with her by leaning his cheek against her temple as he raised his head slightly to look in the other end of the room out of the corner of his eye, then dragged his face slowly back along hers until their noses were once again _very_ close together.

"Still no sign of our friends," he told her with a conspiratorial wink. Just then, the screen of his phone, which had been lying silently on the table this whole time, lit up in the darkness. Looking down, he saw a text from Patterson.

 _Is it safe to come back yet?_ it asked, a laughing emoji beside the words.

They both looked down at it, reading it and realizing that this meant that their friends did indeed know _exactly_ what was going on. Without a word, Kurt released Jane's hand and picked up his phone, typing a text back. When he set it down a few seconds later, Jane smiled when she saw his reply.

 _5 more minutes._

Looking back up at him, she smiled teasingly. "What do you need five more minutes for?" she asked.

"You're about to find out," he told her with a playful grin, leaning forward to kiss her again.

Five minutes later, Patterson and Zapata rounded the corner slowly, glancing at the table they'd deserted a little while before. They'd both ordered more drinks, which they'd sipped at a table just around the corner from the bar, while they'd given Weller and Jane a little privacy. As they slowly returned, they weren't quite surprised to see that, as they approached the table, they were going to have to make some noise as they arrived if they wanted their friends to move away from each other whatsoever.

"Alright you two," Patterson said loudly, watching the two jump slightly, then relax against each other as they chuckled. "Break it up."

Jane and Kurt were still leaned into each other, less surprised this time. "I told you it wouldn't be long before the next time," he whispered to her. "And the next time may not be quite _that_ soon, but I don't intend to wait months and months til then, either. I don't think I can _ever_ wait that long again."

Patterson and Zapata sat down slowly, across from Weller and Jane, who were no longer kissing, but were now simply whispering quietly to each other. As they settled themselves in front of the pair, their friends finally looked up at them, smiling sheepishly.

"What's up, guys?" Zapata asked cheerfully, as if they didn't know _exactly_ what was happening between the pair across from them. Kurt was still sitting close beside Jane, much closer than he had been before, his body turned in her direction, as it had been all night. Looking back Zapata realized that only now.

Patterson and Zapata watched as Jane blushed, glancing down at the drinks on the table, before looking up at their friends and their teasing smiles. _Of course_ they knew, and it wasn't as though it was going to come as a shock to anyone after how close they'd grown recently, but she still felt self-conscious.

 _This is so cute,_ Patterson squealed inside her head, glancing from a flustered Jane to a grinning Weller. She was fairly sure she'd _never_ seen Weller smile that broadly, and he kept glancing at Jane every few seconds, probably without even realizing it. He'd also slid all the way down the bench they were sharing to sit closer to her, and though they'd sat back slightly from each other when she and Zapata had sat down, he hadn't moved any farther down the bench from her.

 _Finally,_ thought Zapata, grinning at them. She bit her lip, knowing that she should hold in her comments about how damn _long_ it had taken them the two of them to finally get together. She _should_ … but then again, she was finishing her fourth round – or was it her fifth? – and dammit, she was allowed to say _something_ … wasn't she? Looking from one of them to the other, her eyes widened slightly.

"I just realized something!" Zapata exclaimed, out of nowhere. "I was _right_!" The other three looked at her curiously. "Reade and I were having a… _discussion_ … Damn… it was a _really_ long time ago…" She looked up at Weller for a second, suddenly wondering if it had been a mistake to bring it up, considering just _how_ long it had been, and how many things had happened since then, but the idea still seemed harmless in her head. "I told him that you guys were definitely going to…"

The grin on Zapata's face widened until it looked like it might actually crack, and Weller suddenly wondered how many drinks the two had managed to finish while they'd been off giving him privacy with Jane. It hadn't been _that_ long… had it?

Zapata shook her head as she remembered, obviously amused by the memory. "Let's just say, we didn't agree." Then suddenly, realizing that her coworkers might make assumptions that weren't true, she added, "We didn't make a bet, or anything, if that's what you're thinking," she told them quickly. "It was solely for bragging rights. And I just won." She sat back, folding her arms over her chest, and looked smug. It was another few seconds before she realized that, since he was on leave, she didn't know when she'd see Reade next. Besides that, really, maybe Reade had enough on his mind. He might not especially care about something so trivial.

 _That's why he was wrong to start with,_ she thought. _He rolled his eyes at me and tried to change the subject and told me to stop worrying about it… but I'm still right_ , she told herself. She might have to sit on this information for a while, but she'd give her partner a hard time about it… eventually.

"I think I'm ready to call it a night," Patterson said then, standing up and putting her hand on Zapata's shoulder after watching her friend's smile waver slightly, and considering the fact that Jane and Weller might want to be alone. "You want to share a cab with me? Or are you sticking around?"

Zapata nodded, standing up slowly and stretching. Jane and Weller would be happy to have some time alone, she was sure. "Yeah, I think I'm done, too." Looking back at the other two, still sitting there close together, Zapata couldn't help but smile. "You two going to hang out here?" she asked them. It didn't escape her attention when they both smiled awkwardly, glancing down at the table one at a time, at each other, and then back at Zapata and Patterson, now standing up and putting on their coats.

After looking into each other's eyes, though not actually speaking, they turned back toward their friends, who were standing in front of them and grinning. "Yeah, I think we'll hang out a little longer," Kurt told them. "Thanks for coming," he added. "Let's try to do this more often."

"We can try," Zapata shrugged, then whispered dramatically, "but my boss is a workaholic, so my hours are crazy." Kurt threw a wadded up bar napkin at her, which landed just short of her, and they all laughed.

"Good night, guys," Zapata grinned at them conspiratorially.

"Night," Patterson said with a grin, looking from one of them to the other.

Jane's smile took over her face. She couldn't help but think how lucky she was to be part of this strange little family. "Good night," she called.

Kurt nodded at them each in turn. "Night, be safe. Call if you need us," he replied. Before the two women left, Patterson squeezed herself around the side of the table and bent down to give Jane a quick hug.

"I'm so happy for you guys," she whispered in her ear.

Jane couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Patterson," she whispered back. "Good night."

Patterson and Zapata waved quickly at Weller and Jane and then turned, heading out of the bar and into the chilly air of a dark night, streetlights shimmering above them.

Back at the table, Jane and Kurt chuckled nervously, glancing at each other and smiling. "You want another drink?" Kurt asked her.

Jane shook her head, taking a sip of the drink she'd been nursing for quite a while now. "No, thanks. I'm good," she told him. "This is just… perfect."

He smiled warmly at her, nodding in agreement and leaning closer to her, sliding his left arm around her back. As he did, she leaned her head against his chest. "It is," he agreed. It was true, after all, because nearly everything about that moment was perfect. The candlelight made dim light bounce off of Jane's face and catching the twinkle in her eyes made her look even more beautiful than usual. The din of music in the background and the clink of glasses from around the bar were background noise, not too loud and not too quiet. And then, of course, there was the simple fact that being there with Jane – and now, _only_ Jane – made everything just feel… _perfect_.

She sat up slightly, taking a sip of her nearly empty drink, and turned to find him looking at her intently. "What?" she asked, smiling back at him yet again.

He shook his head, the slight daze he'd been in clearing. "You look beautiful tonight," he said, before he'd had time to even think about what was going to come out of his mouth. "Not _just_ tonight, of course… but _especially_ tonight."

Feeling herself blushing a deep pink, Jane looked down for a second, smiling self-consciously. Meeting his eyes once again, she was quickly almost too distracted by the way he was looking at her to remember to reply. _Almost_. "Thanks," she whispered. Suddenly, they were moving towards each other, as if pulled by a magnetic force until their lips met all over again.

This time, there was no rush. _Not_ that they had been exactly rushed before, but with their friends now gone, they had pretty much all the time in the world. Yes, they were still at the bar, but they were more or less in a dark corner…

When they finally stopped for air once again, he let his cheek fall against hers, resting his face there gently. Feeling her sigh in happiness against him, he wondered fleetingly if this was actually happening. They almost gotten here on numerous occasions, after all, but was this time actually _real_ , or just wishful thinking?

"It seems too good to be true," she said quietly, smiling as she leaned against him.

"What does?" he asked, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. He was pretty sure he knew what she meant, he just wanted to hear her say it.

"This," she replied simply.

Chuckling softly, he nodded against her. "It does, doesn't it?" he asked. A few minutes passed as they sat in comfortable silence, moving away from each other only to take sips of their drinks, and then moving right back where they'd been, leaned against each other. Soon their glasses were empty, and he leaned down to speak near her ear.

"Are you sure you don't want another drink?" he asked.

"No, thanks," she assured him. "Though I am a little bit hungry."

This was unusual for Jane, since it was rare that she seemed to eat more than a little bit at a time. It was good, though, because it meant that she was slowly getting back to her pre-CIA self, before, among other things, she'd been so severely malnourished that she had trouble eating _anything_ once she got back.

"Do you want to get something here, or go somewhere else?" he asked her. Either one was fine with him, he was just glad to hear her admit that she was hungry for once.

"A walk would probably be good," she said, thinking out loud. "Some fresh air, and all that." He nodded in agreement, and for no other reason than he felt like it, he kissed her cheek.

"What was that for?" she asked, looking at him with a grin.

"I need a reason?" he asked jokingly. "How about… I felt like it?" She chuckled at him, thinking back suddenly to what a contrast this Kurt was to the one she'd met on the first day she remembered, the first day she'd been Jane.

"That's an _excellent_ reason," she told him with a grin.

"I had a feeling you wouldn't mind," he replied, the same grin on his face. Then, leaning back ever so slowly, just a little bit, he looked down at her and was momentarily overwhelmed. He just stared at her, an intense look coming over his face.

"You okay?" she asked, feeling just a little concerned.

"Nope," he said, his focus returning to her, "much better than just 'okay.'"

"Silly," she teased him.

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, "but it's the truth." He felt himself leaning towards her all over again, as if he had no control over the pull he felt. At that moment, the attraction was just too strong, especially now that there was no reason to fight it. He'd fought it for far too long, after all.

She couldn't help but smile when he leaned towards her again, despite the talk of leaving the bar for fresh air and food a few short seconds ago. There was no time, at least that she could remember, when she had been _this_ happy – or anywhere near this happy, for that matter.

The same, intense smile was still on her face a few minutes later, when their lips parted once again and they both leaned back just enough for them to be considered two distinct people, and not just one entity.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I couldn't help myself."

"If you think that was something to be sorry for," she said absently, her eyes still closed and her nose resting against his cheek, "then we need to discuss the meaning of _sorry_."

He couldn't help but chuckle then, letting his left arm, which was wound loosely around her, fall reluctantly from around her. Her face changed into a pout at the loss of contact. "Come on," he whispered, "let's get out of here and find some food." As much as she'd enjoyed the bar, she knew that she'd enjoy going with him, too. After all, it was far more about _him_ than it was about where they were.

Moving toward the end of the bench closer to him, slowly, he took her hand as he moved, in an attempt to pull her along with him. It worked, and it was only a few seconds before he was steadying her with the hand he already held, as she moved sideways though the small space between the table and the wall, stepping out into the walkway that wound through the bar.

"Got everything?" he asked. Jane patted her the pockets of her jacket and nodded.

"Yep," she replied, taking another step closer to him for no reason other than, as he'd said, she just felt like it.

"Then let's go," he said as they started for the door. He held it open for her, as the chilly night air blew in, and she smiled. After all, it was just an excuse to lean against him. _Not_ that she needed one, of course.

Again, she thought of how far they'd come since the beginning, and how many times they'd _almost_ gotten here.

And now, finally, they had.

XXX

 _A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little "deleted scene." I have a few more ideas for what comes after it – another chapter or two worth – we'll see. You guys know by now that my estimates are usually wrong, anyway. :)_


	2. Not Quite Yet

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :) I also don't own the song lyrics that I'll mention again at the end, so I don't spoil anything… because trust me, you don't want me writing songs. I tried when I was about 12 and it was NOT pretty.**_

 _A/N: Welcome to chapter 2. There is at least one more. Beyond that, I'm not sure. The ideas are coming to me a little at a time, as usual._

Kurt had let go of Jane's hand for just a few seconds so that he could hold the door for her as she went through it in front of him, into the chilly wind outside. She'd paused for a split second as she walked in front of him and their eyes had met. Just like so many other times, it was almost like they'd had a whole conversation without saying a word. As soon as they were clear of the door, he reached for her hand again, of course finding no resistance from her. If anything, she felt the pull towards him just as strongly as he felt it towards her.

Looking down at their hands, interlocked between them, as they started walking, Jane glanced up at him shyly. It was an understatement to say that she wasn't used to this. It was also an understatement to say that she liked it… _a lot_.

He glanced down at her at that moment, and she smiled self-consciously, looking down, now feeling him watching her. His hand squeezed hers, and she leaned towards him slightly, bumping her shoulder gently against his arm, just below his shoulder.

 _This is perfect_ , she shouldn't help but think, once again in awe of the whole evening.

They'd taken a cab to the bar, knowing that neither of them would want to be responsible for driving after their outing, so as they began walking along a sidewalk still littered with lots of people, out to enjoy New York City nightlife, they almost didn't pay attention to which way they were going. They were really and truly simply walking, since they were in a busy section of Manhattan and whichever way they chose, they would find food.

After a few blocks of slow progress, during which they'd glanced at each other frequently and smiled the giddy smiles of two people who were at least _sort of_ on their first date – although the evening had started out with Patterson and Zapata – Jane felt him tug on her hand, pulling her toward the edge of the sidewalk. Coming to a stop out of the way of the flow of foot traffic, she squeezed his hand a little tighter and looked up at him curiously. In reply, he took a step closer to her, letting go of her hand and then immediately winding his arms around her waist. While she was surprised, she certainly didn't mind this, and she brought her hands up to his shoulders.

"What?" she asked, feeling her smile intensify as her insides melted just a little from the look he was giving her? Though she had no experience with this sort of thing, she would have been willing to guess that the look on his face meant the same giddy devotion that she felt herself. Really, it was the same look he'd always given her, just intensified, and it made her wonder… had he felt that way from the beginning? Surely not…

She was immediately grateful for the chance to once again look directly into his eyes for more than a split second, like they'd had to make due with while they'd been walking. Walking along and holding his hand was its own kind of magic, but this… this was definitely better. Of course, they hadn't reached their destination yet, but that was suddenly irrelevant. Food could wait.

Shaking his head, he leaned slowly down towards her until, once again, their foreheads touched. He held his there and took a few deep breaths, inhaling the moment the same way they'd each been doing in the bar. It already felt like ages since the last time he'd kissed her, even though it had been literally a few minutes, and this thought made him chuckle to himself.

" _What?_ " she asked again. "I don't get to know what's so funny." Pretending to pout, she successfully held that look for about ten seconds before she couldn't keep a straight face anymore and her smile broke through again.

"I was just thinking…" he finally told her, moving his forehead slightly in order to feel the sensation of brushing his skin against hers, not quite managing to finish his sentence.

"About…?" she prompted him, amused by his apparent inability to focus on what he himself was saying. She had to admit that it was difficult…

Leaning back and looking deeply into her eyes, he decided that the simplest answer was the best. "You," he told her sincerely, which made her blush, her smile widening to match his. "More specifically…" he said, leaning closer to her, "…doing this." This time he didn't stop moving towards her until he was kissing her again, to her surprise.

 _No arguments here,_ she thought, her heart racing.

She certainly hadn't expected him to kiss her in the middle of the crowds of people on the sidewalk. It just seemed like a very… _un-Kurt Weller_ thing to do. Then again, the Kurt that she was out with that evening seemed to be acting more and more differently from the Kurt that she knew from work as the night went on. While she had always loved the serious version of him, she was quickly warming up to this one, as well.

"Get a room!" a random voice called from the crowd that was moving along the sidewalk, not far from where they were standing. This brought them back to reality, back to the fact that they weren't actually standing there alone, despite the fact that they'd been able to very successfully tune out the rest of the world and just focus on each other for a few minutes. Leaning back slightly, they glanced out at the crowd, not knowing who had called out to them, before quickly focusing on each other again.

He noticed the sheepish look on Jane's face, and shrugged, grinning at her with the infectious smile of his that she so loved. "Maybe later," he said lightly. "First, we're getting food."

If they'd been on an actual first date, if they'd been two people who had just met recently, who didn't have such a history together, who _hadn't_ saved each other's lives more times than they could remember, then the implication of Kurt's joking reply might have made things awkward.

But since none of those situations applied to them, and because she _did_ know him as well as she did, she simply chuckled, shaking her head at him as she grinned. If there was one thing that she _didn't_ feel, standing there with him, it was awkward. Maybe they'd used up all the awkwardness already. There'd been _plenty_ of not just awkward, but _painfully_ awkward situations between them in the past months, after all.

"Come on," he said, letting his arms fall from around her reluctantly, pausing just for a few seconds with his hands resting on her waist before dropping them back to his sides, then quickly reaching out to take her hand once again. He squeezed it tightly, protectively even, as they stepped back into the flow of "traffic" along the sidewalk, once again with no particular destination in mind other than simply to find something to eat.

Even though food was their goal, there was no rush. She was a little bit hungry, but not starving – at the same time, it was easy to forget about food when she was there with him, holding his hand and walking along very much _not_ just as friends… though his friendship had always been something she'd valued more highly than almost anything. That was, of course, why losing it had been so painful, and why the thought of even the _possibility_ of things going badly between them again was so terrifying. After all, she knew how much it hurt, and she'd rather face off with Sandstorm all on her own, no matter how grim the odds, than lose Kurt for _any_ reason.

He wasn't sure how long or how far they'd walked, since he had completely lost track of the time and even the direction in which they'd been going, as distracted as he'd been by the woman whose hand he was holding. All he did know was that all of a sudden, he knew where they were… and he knew that Jane must realize it, too. After all, not only was it immediately recognizable to most people who had so much as visited New York City and many, many people who hadn't, this place had a personal significance as well.

They came around the corner, out into a wide plaza that was still filled with people, even as late as it was. She was surprised to realize that, despite the fact that they hadn't talked about where they were going – they'd simply walked for a while, following the crowd – they'd ended up here. Without needing to say a word to each other, they stepped to the side, out of the way of the people behind them and towards one of the many large buildings along the edge of the plaza.

He tugged her towards him, stepping slightly behind her so that he could put his arms back around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, his cheek against hers. Her felt her inhale slowly, then exhale again just as slowly. Together, they stood and looked from one end of Times Square to the other, the place where Jane had first come out of that surprisingly small duffle bag somewhere mid-way between where they stood and the towering buildings at the other end. Again, he felt her breathe and out, slowly and deliberately, as if she was working hard to retain her composure. As much as he liked standing this way because he was so close to her, he didn't like not being able to read her emotions on her face.

"Are you okay?" he whispered in her ear, the scruff on his face tickling her cheek.

 _How could I not be okay?_ She wondered, leaning slightly against his face, moving her cheek gently back and forth against his.

"Not _just_ okay," she assured him. "I'm pretty sure that this is about as good as it gets."

"No way," he assured her quickly. "This is just the beginning. So, I guess it's pretty appropriate that we're standing here, where it all began before."

Once again, she had the sensation of her insides melting, for lack of a better description. She wasn't just _okay_ , not even close. On the contrary, she was _so_ happy, she couldn't help but feel a little bit weak. Of course, that worked out fine, since he had his arms tightly around her waist. If it was possible, just thinking about how happy she was just then only made her happier – despite the fact that it didn't seem possible.

She'd been to Times Square – mostly walking through it quickly with the team for work, crossing from one destination to another or, occasionally, stopping at one of the buildings that lined it – many times. Occasionally, she'd also come down here just to sit on the smooth stone benches that littered the area for hours at a time, just thinking. There had been one day when she'd been particularly upset, and she'd spent the better part of a day on one of those benches, to the point where Kurt had actually come looking for her. That memory, though she'd been drowning in her own helpless thoughts that day, made her smile. After all, when she'd failed to go to work that day, it had just given Kurt a chance to surprise her by showing up there to look for her, showing that he cared about her.

"Do you want empanadas?" he asked, fairly sure of the answer. There was a small building in the middle of the walkway that wasn't far from where they stood that sold empanadas that Jane _loved_ , and she stopped for them almost every time they were nearby, if they had the time.

"I was thinking of fries, but now that you mention it…" Jane replied. He expected her to start walking, and was surprised when, as he tried to step around her so that they could continue on, she shifted, blocking him, almost as quickly. "Not yet," she said, her head turned towards him. "I just want to… stand right here with you for another minute."

He kissed her cheek, squeezing his arms around her tightly, and knowing exactly what she meant. The rest of the world could have completely disappeared, and he would've barely noticed, if at all. He rested his chin against her shoulder again, completely content at that moment, not a thought of Shepherd or Sandstorm or any cases that needed to be solved. The only remotely work related thing he was thinking about was the bird tattoo on Jane's neck, because it was just inches from his face – and he was _not_ thinking about it in a work-related capacity, that was for sure.

Now focusing on that particular tattoo, he suddenly leaned towards it, leaning his face against the ink lines of the bird. She turned her head away instinctively, making her neck easier to access, then leaned back towards him slowly, the side of her head against his forehead with a smile. This, again, was a side of him to which she wasn't accustomed, but that she liked very much.

As much as the moment felt absolutely perfect, they both knew that they were going to have to continue on their way sooner than later. They couldn't just stay there all night…

"We should probably… keep going…" he whispered, still resting his face against her neck.

"Yeah," she agreed, not moving a muscle. She did the opposite, actually, standing rooted in place just in case he tried to tug her from where she stood. She simply wasn't ready to move yet. "But not yet. Just… Five more minutes," she said insistently.

Kurt chuckled, recognizing the request from when he'd said the same thing to Patterson so that he could kiss her for five more minutes. "The thing is, though…" he said beside her ear. "…we both know that five minutes won't be enough."

The smile on her face intensified, because he was so very right and they both knew it. He moved his nose slowly against the bird tattoo, and she felt herself shiver. He certainly did have a point.

"I'm not sending you off on your own," he reminded her, "I'm walking right along with you."

"I know, but…" she started, now feeling silly.

"But _what?_ " he asked teasingly, leaning back slowly so that he could grin at her from the side.

 _God, but she's beautiful,_ he thought.

"But _this_ is better," she replied matter-of-factly, as if it was obvious. He laughed out loud then, loosening his arms from her waist and turning her around to face him, then immediately wrapping his arms around her shoulders so that he could hug her tightly. She hugged him back, her arms his middle, her head pressing into his neck.

Even though he was hugging _her_ tightly in the first place, there was something about how tightly _she_ was holding on that worried him. His right hand moved up to the back of her head, moving his fingers gently in her hair, and he loosened his left arm from around her back so that he could lean back and look at her. Without saying anything, his eyes asked the question for him.

He looked at her with so much concern, she felt a tug at her heart.

 _You can never again pretend that you don't know that he loves you,_ the voice in her head insisted. _He does, and it's obvious. No matter how much it may scare you, you can't deny that you know. You already knew, really. It was just easier to deny it._

She smiled then, the wave of emotion that had overcome her for a second subsiding back to "just" pure happiness, and she felt tension that she hadn't even realized was _in_ her flowing _out_ of her. With his left arm over her shoulders, he turned to walk beside her. "Come on, the empanadas aren't going to come to us," he said insistently, and she felt herself propelled gently forward even as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Hamm… probably not," she agreed, moving forward. "But wouldn't that be great if they did?"

"Then again, if they deliver… they could," he observed with a straight face, and he felt her chuckle beside him. It was a sensation he loved – being close enough to her that he could also _feel_ rather than just observe her reactions to things.

They reached Nuchas, the tiny little building in the middle of the walkway in Times Square, and she ordered enough empanadas for both of them, knowing that he would probably be hungry, too. To her surprise, before she had a chance to pay, he'd reached up and handed the man inside the window enough cash to cover the total. As they stood and waited for the food, she looked up at him in confusion.

"Thanks," she told him, "But… you didn't have to do that." The look on her face made him want to laugh, and at the same time made him want to hug her tighter. Even now, as far as they'd come, she was still so unaccustomed to having someone do something nice for her that she was confused by something so simple? Even when it was _him_? He would have to fix that.

A minute later, the man in the window passed them the paper bag of empanadas. Jane reached up and took it, and they began moving away from the window, walking towards the middle of Times Square to find somewhere to sit and eat.

With a shrug, he replied, "No, of course I didn't have to. That's why it's fun. I think I like doing things for you. What can I say? I guess I'm a nice guy. And who knows… It might even become a habit." They were walking leisurely along through the crowd of people who seemed to be mostly tourists.

When she stopped in the walkway, to the dismay of several people walking behind them, he was forced to stop as well, turning to look at her in surprise.

"Are you trying to say that you don't think you've done anything for me already?" she asked, appearing genuinely concerned.

He hadn't meant his comment seriously. Yes, things between them had been a tangled web that they were only just beginning to unwind, and he'd done many things he wasn't proud of. But when it came down to it, he didn't actually think he hadn't done anything for her. Not enough, sure. But not nothing. Surely _she_ didn't think that was what he really thought…

His left arm was still draped over her shoulder, though he had moved to stand in front of her, and he lifted his right arm over her other shoulder, looking into her eyes and then leaning down to press his forehead against hers.

"That wasn't what I meant, Jane," he said, his voice low and as soothing as he could make it. "All I meant was I intend to do a lot _more_. Because you _deserve_ more. Okay?"

The concern left her face, and she smiled in relief. "You've done _so much_ for me," she insisted.

"Not all of it good," he interjected, to which her face became pained again.

"I still have you beat, there," she replied quietly, looking down.

"Okay, we're not having this contest," he declared, his stubborn side kicking in. " _Neither of us_ is, or was, perfect. But _both of us_ are here right now. End of discussion. Right?" He leaned back and, when she didn't look up, he lifted his right arm off her shoulder so that he could bring his hand back around and lift her chin towards him with his fingertips. "And I'm not taking anything but agreement, by the way," he added with a wink.

Finally she smiled again, rolling her eyes and feeling her doubts once again dissipate. It was pretty amazing, that as fast as she could produce them – and she was an expert at doubting herself – he could simply make them disappear.

"Okay, yes, right," she agreed, pretending that it was hesitantly, her heart feeling very full once again. It seemed to happen a lot when he was around, and today even more than usual. They continued walking then, Kurt simply following Jane's lead. She seemed to be walking with purpose now, though still leisurely, as if she knew where she wanted to end up.

He was surprised when she steered them towards one of the long, smooth, architectural granite "benches" that dotted Times Square, which started low and gradually got taller, slanting up like a ramp and them reversing back on itself so that it had a front half and a back half, the back of which continued its upward slant past the end of the front, ending up far taller than where it had started. They'd only been installed in Times Square somewhat recently – in the past year sometime – they hadn't been there when Jane had emerged from the bag.

Glancing around at the familiar landmarks and noting that some of the stores had changed since the last time he'd been there – most notable to him, the Toys R Us was no longer there – he knew why she'd chosen this particular spot. It was only a very short distance – a matter of yards, most likely – from the spot where an NYPD officer had first noticed the bag from which she had emerged. She stepped up onto the low side of the "bench," if it could be called that, as architecturally cool as it was, turned to her left and walked a few feet, past the end of the low, front side, then sat down. When he stepped closer to her, the low side of the bench no longer in his way, they were almost at the same eye level.

From the paper bag that she'd been carrying, she pulled several napkins, laying them down on the smooth surface, and then took out several empanadas. She broke them open slightly in the middle, so that a plume of steam could escape from each one. She'd learned several lessons the first time she'd ordered those particular treats. First, let them cool before trying to eat them, no matter how hungry she was, because they always came out scalding. Second, don't try to eat them while walking. The amount of sauce and gooey cheese that would drip out of them, seemingly no matter how she wrapped them in napkins, made it necessary to sit and focus all of her attention on them.

As the steam poured out of the empanadas beside her, she looked up at him. She'd felt him watching her as she'd pretended that she wasn't avoiding his gaze, knowing the look that he was giving her. Of course he knew where they were, why she'd chosen this bench. The thing she'd never been able to understand _herself_ was why she'd chosen it so many times before. All she could come up with was that there was something oddly comforting about going back to a place where she had a history. Good or bad, there weren't many places, even within New York City – the only place she had lived since being Jane – that she could say that about. This place was something familiar, a part of _her._

When she finally looked up at him, she saw that sure enough, he was looking at her with the same expression she'd known he would be. Smiling back weakly, she knew he was going to ask her to explain, so she saved him the trouble. "I don't know why I keep coming back here," she said softly. "It just… pulls me back." She thought back to the time she'd sat there so long, he'd had Patterson trace her phone and he'd come to find her. She'd been sitting right there, on that same bench.

He hadn't realized that this wasn't just the second time she'd been drawn there.

 _Besides the fact that you obviously don't know everything about her, there's also a big chunk of time where you didn't know_ _ **what**_ _she was up to because you consciously chose not to ask. You chose to shut her out,_ he reminded himself, feeling a stab of guilt and struggling to push it aside. There was nothing he could do about that now. All he could do was to just be better in the present.

"How often do you come here?" he asked. He was genuinely curious.

She shrugged, considering it. "Lately, not much… it's been quite a while. But back when…" She considered how to diplomatically refer to the time when she'd been dragged back after the black site, when he'd made it clear that he hated her and seemed like he always would… "When I had more, uh, time on my hands…" She commended herself on her choice of words, even though she still saw him cringe, knowing exactly what period of time she meant. "…I used to come here pretty often. Even before that, sometimes when I used to sneak out of my safe house at night, when I'd slip my detail. And I know," she said before he had a chance, "It was dangerous to do that…"

He smiled, because he'd been fighting the urge to point that out, even now that it didn't matter anymore, since she no longer _had_ a detail.

"I don't know, it just…" she paused, not sure she could explain it. "I would just come here and sit and think."

Nodding slowly, he couldn't help but think that it made sense. "I wish I'd been there… I mean, _here_ … that night," he said suddenly, looking into her eyes.

Though he hadn't specified, she knew that he was talking about the night it had all started, when the bag with the tag that said "Call the FBI" had been found. "Why?" she asked him. "You didn't know me, I didn't know you… _I_ didn't even know _me_. I didn't mean anything to you. It wouldn't have made any difference."

"I know…" he replied, trying not to cringe at her comment that his presence wouldn't have made a difference, even though he knew it was simply the truth. "…but I hate the thought of you being here alone, and so vulnerable… and just that I wasn't here. For you."

He was so sincere, she couldn't help but be surprised, even after how sweet he'd been acting towards her lately – and especially that evening. She was still unable to quite believe how things had turned out between them, and he just kept surprising her.

"So it's not because I was naked?" she asked with a grin, at which he rolled his eyes at her.

"I know it probably wouldn't have changed anything, if I'd been here…" he said, only a little less seriously, ignoring her joking question.

 _Or would it have?_ she wondered. _Would he have arrested me the way he did after he found out I wasn't Taylor, in the_ _ **exact**_ _same way they cuffed me that first night, if he'd been there to see it happen the first time?_ There was no way to know, of course, and at this point it really didn't matter… but she wondered fleetingly, for just a second, nonetheless. A shiver ran through her at the memory, even now, after all this time and all the progress they'd made.

"…but I can't help it," he continued slowly, watching her face freeze in what looked like an attempt to hide a pained expression. But then only seconds later the thought must have passed, because she smiled at him.

Letting go of the thoughts that were bothering her, she instead focused on the fact that he was there in front of her, and that they _weren't_ in that place anymore – _either_ of those places – the beginning, where they hadn't known each other, or the middle, where he'd arrested her. No, where they were now was _infinitely_ better.

Leaning forward, she reached for his hands and then used them to tug him forward, until he was standing between her knees. "But you're here _now,_ " she reminded him, "and that's _way_ more important to me." She watched as the concern left his face and he smiled that smile that she had always loved, the one that she'd only ever seen him smile at _her_ , squeezing her hands as he looked into her eyes.

"You're right," he agreed. "And I intend to keep it that way."

"Good," she replied, "now I think we can eat these." Letting go of his hands reluctantly, she turned to her left, where she'd laid the now slightly cooled empanadas, picking up one, strategically wrapping it in napkins and handing it to him.

"Thanks," he said, taking it from her and watching as she picked up the other one for herself. They ate in silence, Kurt having stepped back only a little to try to ensure that they didn't drip sauce and cheese on each other.

As they sat, in Jane's case, or stood, in Kurt's, eating empanadas in the middle of Times Square, strains of music floated through the air from somewhere that neither of them could identify. Jane finished chewing the bite in her mouth, hesitating before taking another one as she listened.

" _I didn't fool you but I failed you  
In short, made a fool out of you  
And a younger heart._

 _And I rage and I rage.  
But perhaps I will come of age  
And be ready for you…"_

Looking at him cautiously, she saw that he was watching her as well. Glancing away, she looked for the source of the music, but to no avail. Finally, her eyes landed back on him again, only to find that once again, he was watching her. As the song continued, she couldn't help but smile at how appropriate the words were. Or at least, she _hoped_ that they were. They continued to watch each other as the rest of the song played in the distance, and it was as if the world around them tunneled to two points – him and her. Everything else around them – the noise, the crowds, all of it – simply ceased to exist.

" _And you saw me low  
Alone again.  
Didn't they say that only love, will win in the end?  
Didn't they say that only love, will win in the end?"_

Either the song had ended, or maybe it was just that the source of the music was no longer nearby, because suddenly, she could no longer hear the song, despite how she strained her ears. She could almost hear the last refrain still echoing in her head.

" _Didn't they say that only love, will win in the end?"_

 _I hope so,_ was all she could think as she watched him, their eyes meeting and then one or the other of them glancing away.

When they'd finished their empanadas, Jane realized that she'd bought far too many, since, despite their relatively small size, she was already full after eating one.

"Do you want another one?" she asked him, but Kurt shook his head.

"No, thanks," he said, "that hit the spot, though. And now you have some leftovers. I bet Roman would help you with them."

Jane smiled at the thought of being able to give some to Roman. She felt guilty about the fact that she could come and go, but he was still tied to the safe house and his detail. Those days when she'd been in his shoes were still fresh in her mind, but she hoped that Roman would get to the point where she was, as well.

"Good idea," she agreed, forcing herself to smile even though the thought of sharing the food with Roman made her realize that she was going to have to go home, and that this evening was going to end. Though she knew it couldn't last forever, of course, it just seemed like there was something magical about this night… as if tomorrow the spell would be broken and things would go back to the way they'd been with Kurt. As if on cue, she yawned.

 _Traitor,_ she told her mouth accusingly.

"It's probably time to call it a night," he said reluctantly, smiling down at her with what felt to her like some sort of hypnotic power.

Ending the night was the last thing he wanted to think about. Really, he wished there was a way that it wouldn't have to end, and he stepped forwards, closer to her, where he'd been standing before they'd eaten, his hands resting on her waist lightly.

"Yeah," she agreed with a dramatic sigh, and he had to smile when her tone matched how _he_ felt about the idea as well.

"We're going to see each other tomorrow," he reminded her, not taking his eyes off of hers. And then, watching the face she made that told him that it was _not_ the same thing – which of course, it wasn't, because they couldn't exactly act this way at work – he added, "And _this_ – us – isn't going away overnight. You know that, right?" She continued to look into his eyes and he got the feeling that there was something she wanted to say, but didn't. "It's not like things are going to go back to the way they were between us."

She glanced down, sure that her eyes had betrayed her thoughts, or if they hadn't, they that they _would_. Rationally, she knew that everything between them wouldn't all just disappear… But then again, it had all gone to hell once before, a fact that she couldn't help but remember. So it wasn't likely, but it wasn't impossible.

 _You were both keeping a lot of secrets back then,_ she reminded herself. _Right now you only have one… which, by the way, you need to tell him sooner than later._ Dismissing the last thought until another time, she focused on the present situation. She could only deal with so many things at once.

"I know that I haven't really given you a reason to be able to trust me," he started, and she looked up in surprise. _He_ hadn't given _her_ a reason to trust _him_? If anything, he had it backwards. She shook her head, unable to get the words out to protest, her mouth simply sitting open slightly, refusing to work.

"Oh, I know, you'll take all the blame," he said, rolling his eyes. "That's not happening. It wasn't intentional, but I know that I…"

He stopped, then, and a strange look came over his face. She would've given anything to know what was going on in his head.

"What's wrong?" she asked curiously, hoping that he'd actually tell her.

What he'd realized was that he was doing the same thing he'd just told Jane she couldn't do. Take all the blame for himself for the fact that things between them had fallen apart completely. Looking at her sheepishly, he cleared his throat and continued slowly. "All I'm saying is… I know why it might feel like… like we'll wake up tomorrow and _this_ won't be there, suddenly? Is that what you're thinking?"

She glanced nervously between him and the ground. Sometimes it was annoying that he could read her so well, like now for example. "Logically I know that it won't," she replied, knowing that that answer said all he needed to know.

"But I'm not talking about logically…" he replied. She just nodded, not looking up. He reached both of his hands up to the back of her neck, his thumbs moving slowly in the ends of her hair, and his other fingers on her skin. He watched her close her eyes, smiling, but it wasn't quite a _happy_ smile.

Nodding at him, she tried to just focus on the sensation of his fingers on the skin of her neck, breathing in and out.

 _Didn't we just talk about this?_ the voice in her head asked. _You are_ _ **not**_ _allowed to doubt that he loves you. You can be scared, but you have to remember that much._

He knew her well enough to know that her emotions weren't usually too far below the surface, and this time seemed to be no exception. "But it's different this time," he told her softly, "And I just want to make sure you know that. Of course, I know that it's all just words, which clearly, I'm not good at…"

"I don't know, I think you're doing pretty well," she told him with a smile. She leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder, then turned her head so that she was facing his neck. "Besides, it wasn't _all_ words, if I recall correctly."

He chuckled then, leaning down to kiss her on the top of her head. As he stood up once again, he saw her hand come up to her mouth to cover another yawn, and he shook his head. "Come on, I saw that. Let's get going." When she didn't budge, he added, "I'm sure we can find something fun to do tomorrow evening – assuming that you don't already have plans, or, you know, that we're not busy saving the world." Her face lit up in a smile, and she slowly lifted her head off his shoulder. She almost looked surprised.

"You want to go out tomorrow night?" she asked.

"Is that too soon?" he asked with a grin, knowing the answer.

"I was thinking… not soon enough" she replied. He just grinned, bringing his hands back down to her waist to help her down from the bench as she slid forward.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

 _See?_ said the voice in her head.

 _Alright, alright,_ she thought in annoyance, _I get the point._

Once she was on the ground, he reached for her hand again. As they took a few steps away from the bench, he turned and looked back, pausing in his tracks, which in turn pulled her to a stop as well.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he told her. "Just… if you come down here and you want company… call me. You don't have to come down here alone if you don't want to." As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt slightly ridiculous, but they were out and there was no taking them back. Besides, he'd meant them.

But Jane just smiled, squeezing his hand. "Thanks," she replied, slightly in awe once again at the man beside her.

They walked to the edge of the crowds around Times Square, cutting between the tall buildings that lined the square in search of a cab. Just before the wide plaza was out of sight, Jane paused and turned back to look at it. She didn't have much in the way of history, but this place represented her beginning, in a way. Maybe that was why she was drawn back here at times, even though it represented a less than ideal time of her life. After all, as Kurt had said, all of it had led them to each other – even the part where she'd been Remi, and she'd helped Shepherd organize a plot to infiltrate the FBI and take advantage of Kurt. Mercifully, though she had to _live_ with her past, it was just that – her _past_. She didn't have to be that person anymore. Her present and, hopefully, her future, were so much better.

A block away from the noise and bright lights of Times Square they found a cab, and soon they were on their way to Jane's place, her head against his shoulder in the back seat, her eyes closed. He held on tightly to her right hand with his left, as if somehow, she would disappear if she didn't. Once upon a time, everything they'd had had gone up in smoke, it was true, but not this time. He'd been the one reassuring her before, but now he was reassuring himself. They had a second chance, and he intended to take advantage of it.

Though her eyes were closed, she wasn't asleep. Sitting beside him in the cab, she noticed just how tightly he was holding her hand, as if he expected her to try to get away, or that someone else would try to take her away. She felt more secure somehow, though she couldn't have explained it, because he was holding on so tightly. All she knew was that at that moment, his touch made it easier for her to breathe, as it had so many other times in the past.

Once again, she heard the song echo through her mind.

" _Didn't they say that only love, will win in the end?  
Didn't they say that only love, will win in the end?"_

The evening was going to end, despite how much neither of them wanted it to, and they would go their separate ways for the night.

But… not quite _yet_.

 _A/N: You may have noticed by now that I like using songs in my fics. I have a playlist of 500 of so (probably more) songs that remind me of them, because, well, almost everything reminds me of them, so I can admit that I work them in whenever I can. This particular song, "Only Love," by Mumford and Sons – which I don't own in any way, shape or form – is the latest one that I've been playing over and over and over in my car, to the point where I'm hearing it in_ _ **my**_ _head the way I just described Jane hearing it in hers. Which is fine with me, because I love it._


	3. Flashback

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blind spot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: When I uploaded ch2, FFN was being funny, giving me errors and for some reason, not sending out a notification email. So if you didn't realize it was posted, I'm sorry. :(_

When the cab pulled up in front of Jane's place, she was so blissfully comfortable on his shoulder, she didn't even notice that the car had stopped at first. It was only when the driver's voice cut through her thoughts that she realized it, and when she opened her eyes she was surprised to find they were already there. It was too late to scramble for money in her pocket, because Kurt had already paid the driver.

"Thanks," she mumbled, to which he just smiled at her with a small nod as she sat up and they both unbuckled their seatbelts.

Standing on the curb as the cab drove away, she wondered for a second why he hadn't just stayed in the cab and kept going on to his apartment. Surely he knew that she could make it to the door herself, right?

Glancing at the door, and at Roman's detail, who were sitting nonchalantly in the car nearby, she looked back at him.

"I know what you're thinking," he told her. Of course, this just made her curious, and she waited for him to go on.

"Do you?" she asked skeptically.

"You're thinking that you would have been perfectly fine to walk to the door by yourself," he said, "Right?" He reached for her hand, not yet moving. After all, the door was not very far away and it didn't feel like there was any other excuse _not_ to have to say good night. He was in no rush to get to that door.

Watching him in amusement, she felt herself blush slightly. "Well, I would have been!" she insisted quickly. It was only after his face changed to slight distress that she realized what he was remembering – the night she'd kissed him the first time, and he'd let her walk home. Granted, it had been a much farther walk that from the curb to the door… but then again, she'd only gone a fraction of that distance when Carter's men had jumped her. That night had set in motion so many other things. Everything, really. She shivered slightly, telling herself it was from the cool breeze that blew on them, but knowing otherwise.

 _All of this led me to you. And you to me,_ she reminded herself, trying to quell her own sudden feeling of panic. She squeezed his hand in hers, smiling the best she could.

Looking at her, he could see that she had understood. He'd watched her expression change, probably the same way that his hand. As it had happened so many other times, no words had been necessary. Now they were standing there, both of them with racing thoughts of a night long ago when so much had happened to them. Things had gone from very, very good to very, very bad in a matter of seconds, even though Kurt hadn't known it at the time. That night was like a microcosm of everything they were. Both extremes, the best and the worst.

The seconds ticked by as they remained rooted to that spot at the curb. Jane knew that Roman's detail was observing them with casual interest, and she waved to them, attempting to appear calm, then looking back at Kurt. As so often happened between them, he squeezed her hand as communication, and she nodded ever so slightly. It was her reminder that it was okay. They were both still there. The path they'd taken had been long and difficult, but they'd made it to this point. The past was… well, it was just that. It was the past. They couldn't claim that it held no power over them, but it didn't determine their future. That much they'd already learned.

"Come on," he said, his arm slipping around her waist, propelling her gently toward the door. Knowing that there was no other real option, she began moving with him. It was only a few seconds before they were at the door and she was fishing her keys out of her pocket. He let his arm drop reluctantly from her waist, feeling that it was much too soon but with no other choice.

"Do you want to come in for a little while?" she asked. It wasn't a line of any kind – she truly didn't want the night to end, and if he left, then it was officially over.

He knew that for both of their sakes he should say no, because it was already late – though he honestly had no idea what time it was. Such a mundane detail was of no interest to him.

"Sure," he replied. Given the choice, of course he said yes, no matter that he knew he shouldn't.

She opened the door, walking in with Kurt close behind her, and looked across the room to find Roman sprawled across the couch. He looked up at the sound of the door, a wide smile immediately appearing on his face as he sat up to greet them.

"Hey," Jane said, smiling just because of how happy he looked to see her. "I brought you something. Empanadas." She left out that they were from Times Square. While it was a harmless detail and a fact, it just seemed better somehow to omit it. Even though Roman, like Jane, was no longer the person who'd been involved in the plan to leave her in Times Square, it still felt like a raw nerve to her. This was an interesting contrast, of course, since with Kurt, Times Square was their point of connection, even though he hadn't actually _been there_ when she'd been found.

"I see you brought a friend, too," Roman replied with a grin, looking from one of them to the other. The men nodded at each other. There was a mutual respect between them that Jane had never thought she'd see. It had been like that in her dreams – literally – not just as in the expression "in my dreams," but in her _actual_ dreams. She'd thought that the two of them getting along was too good to be true, but here they were, smiling at each other. "I guess the drink with the team was good?" he asked. The expression on his face told her that he could see it had gone better than _good_.

"Yeah," Jane said, taking off her jacket and laying it on the back of a chair as Kurt followed her into the room and did the same. She handed the bag to Roman, and then said, "I'll be right back. You two play nice." With that, she walked back across the room and disappeared into the bathroom.

"You want a drink?" Roman asked. "Jane has something stashed in the kitchen, I think." He started to stand up, but Kurt waved him off.

"I got it," Kurt told him, walking to the kitchen.

Roman watched with interest, noticing that Kurt seemed to know _exactly_ where the bottle was, as well as the glasses. _Interesting,_ he thought. He knew that there was a lot of complicated history between his sister and Agent Weller, but he didn't know all the details.

Kurt's hand hesitated before he picked up the bottle that was about a third full of light brownish liquid, a hazy image flashing before his eyes. _That_ night.

 _I helped myself. Hope you don't mind._

His back was to Roman, for which he was grateful, and he closed his eyes, taking an extra second to compose himself.

 _It's far in the past,_ he reminded himself. _You ended up here. It's okay now._ Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to pick up the bottle, also taking three glasses carefully from the cabinet. He still remembered exactly which one she kept them in. A moment later, back across the open living space with Roman, who sat at the far left end of the couch, Kurt sat down in the middle of it and poured the other man some of the liquid. He slid the glass across the table toward Roman, then poured some for himself.

"You guys have a good night, I guess?" Roman asked.

Despite the fact that he knew that Roman liked him, and that he was fairly certain that Roman could sense at least some of how he felt about Jane simply from observing his actions at work, Kurt also knew that Roman was fiercely protective of his sister. He wondered if Roman could possibly feel more protective of her than _he_ did himself, or if their protectiveness of her was perhaps evenly matched.

"Yeah," Kurt said with a nod. "We met up with Patterson and Zapata, hung out with them for a while. They called it a night and Jane wanted some food, so we took a walk and ended up in Times Square."

Roman nodded, and they both sipped their drinks, glancing at the TV. It was turned to one of the news channels. Kurt's automatic thought, looking at the TV, was to hope that nothing would happen that was important enough to call him back to work.

Jane emerged from the bathroom then, and both of the men looked up at the sound of the door, both smiling at her.

"Hey, come have a drink," Roman said, looking down at the bottle. "We helped ourselves. Hope you don't mind."

The memory hit Jane like a freight train, literally knocking the wind out of her. It was all she could do to remain standing, reaching her hand up to grip the doorframe before her knees gave out in surprise. She wasn't sure whether or not she'd been able to stop her face showing just how much dismay she _felt_ , she only knew that it hadn't crumpled _completely_. It wasn't the same, and she _knew_ very well that this wasn't that moment, but for a second, _that_ moment was all she could see… Kurt staring at her with cold, hard eyes and saying almost the exact same words that Roman had just said as he sat beside the same bottle… Her entire body stung, and yet was numb at the same time. It took all of her strength to remain standing, and to somehow force her face to retain some semblance of calm. Somehow, she managed to remind herself to keep breathing.

Kurt heard the words that had been almost identical to his own with dismay, flinching painfully. While he knew that Roman had no idea what he'd just triggered in his sister, for a split second he hated the man for causing Jane as much pain as he knew that he just had.

 _That's not Roman's fault, it's yours_ , he reminded himself, at which time he turned his frustration on himself, now having to force himself take a deep breath, and to calm down, just as Jane was having to do. She, however, had the added burden of Roman watching her. He saw the expression that flashed across her face for a split second, and he knew that, _of course_ , she'd made the connection, and that it had stung more than a little.

 _Jane, look at me,_ he begged her silently, but to no avail. She was staring at that bottle. He couldn't tell if it was the same one, or not, but it didn't matter. In her head, it was all exactly the same. She probably wasn't even seeing Roman anymore, only him, back on that night, and then seeing everything that had come after it. He tried to stop himself from shuddering, to no avail.

"Come have a seat," Kurt managed to say. Even he could hear that his voice sounded off. When she finally looked at him, slowly, recognition passed between them, and he did his best to tell her, with his eyes, that it was okay. He was staring at her even more intensely than usual, and he hoped that she had gotten the message. He patted the seat beside him on the couch, on the side opposite the one Roman was on, and she moved slowly forward in his direction.

She wanted to believe that the scene before her eyes was the one that was really happening, and _not_ the one in her head, but she couldn't quitebe sure.

Roman wasn't exactly sure what had just happened, but something had just freaked Jane out. That much was for sure. Weller was suddenly a little off, too. He didn't think asking either of them would make it any better, however, so he simply sat on the uncomfortable feeling, watching them with curiosity. It had something to do with what he'd said, he thought, but since he couldn't pin down _why_ that would bother them, there must be a story behind it. While he immediately felt defensive on Jane's behalf, he had also seen how protective Weller was over her – to the point of distrusting _him_ , her own brother – so he didn't think he had to _worry_ , exactly. For the time being, he was content just to see how things played out.

Jane sat down uncomfortably by Kurt, leaving a small but noticeable space between them. The tension was palpable, as they both sat and remembered, all the while fighting hard _not_ to remember. Thankfully the TV provided background noise, and Kurt picked up the bottle, pouring a small amount for Jane. He wasn't sure if she would refuse it, or if she would feel like she _needed_ it, with the memories that were undoubtedly assaulting her, but he figured it was better to err on the side of "just in case."

She watched him pour a small amount of liquid into her glass, fighting to stay in the present but feeling the echoes of the past pulling her backwards with icy claws. As much as she would've liked to drink it all in one gulp, she didn't trust herself to reach for it – she was pretty sure that she was shaking just then… or maybe it was her imagination. It was hard to be sure – reality felt more than a little bit fluid just then. Gripping the edge of the couch cushion tightly, she gritted her teeth. She did her best to lean back far enough to be out of Roman's view, with Kurt between them, because she didn't want him to be worried by the state of distress she was in. Surely, she could pull herself together enough to at least fool him. He didn't know her as well as Kurt did, after all.

Kurt glanced down and saw Jane clenching the edge of the cushion, her knuckles actually beginning to turn white from the exertion, and he knew that he had to do something. Setting his glass down, he reached his left hand down slowly, settling it gently on top of her right hand, wrapping his fingers around the left side of hers and rubbing his thumb across the ink lines that wove across the back of her hand.

In the uncomfortable silence, Roman had begun eating the empanadas. "These are really good, Jane, thanks," he said in between bites.

"Oh, sure," she said, momentarily pulled from her thoughts.

When she felt Kurt's hand on top of hers, only then did she realize that she had a death grip on the couch cushion. She forced herself to breathe more slowly and deliberately, gradually unclenching her fingers. As soon as they released the cushion, however, her fingers balled themselves tightly into fists, which she managed to lay _on top of_ the cushion instead of pressing _into_ it.

 _Baby steps_ , she told herself.

Even through the movement, Kurt's left hand stayed draped over Jane's. His left hand now loosely but securely covered Jane's right fist, his thumb still moving slowly back and forth along the skin beneath it. While it wasn't quite enough to calm her down, the sensation at least kept her tethered to reality.

After breathing in and out for another minute, Jane forced herself to put her thoughts aside enough to attempt a normal conversation with Roman. Sitting forward enough to look around Kurt – who took the hint and sat back slightly – Jane watched her brother finish a third empanada.

"So, how was your day?" she asked him.

 _It's not her most normal tone, but it's more relaxed that she was a few minutes ago,_ Roman thought with relief.

He shrugged glumly. "Same old thing," he replied. "I met with Dr. Sun this morning and then… came back here. Don't get me wrong, it's still better than being trapped at the FBI…" He hoped that neither of them took his words as complaining, because it had certainly been worse. "It's just…" Shrugging again, he couldn't think of anything else to say. He figured that they got the idea, anyway.

Jane and Kurt both nodded sympathetically. While Kurt did have the power to do something about Roman's frustrations, of course, at the same time, he absolutely had to tread carefully. It wasn't as simple as treating him the way he'd treated Jane at the beginning, as much as she wanted it to be. He had people to answer to, after all. And though it may have been unfair, the fact that they had started out knowing Roman's history was a distinct _disadvantage_ for him _._ No, they hadn't treated Jane this way – though if they'd known her past, she probably would have been treated far worse. In any case, it was what it was.

Jane had made her feelings clear to Kurt on several occasions already, and as distracted as she was at that moment, she wasn't up to doing it again. Besides, in front of Roman wasn't the place to do it, anyway.

"I know it's hard," Jane replied sympathetically, and then, the words tasting bitter in her mouth because she knew how hard they were to receive, she added, "Give it time." She hated the fact that she also knew how much _those_ words didn't help either, but really, what else could she say? There wasn't _anything_ she could say just then that would actually _help_. That was how it felt, at least.

Roman nodded, then glanced at his watch as he yawned. He'd been having trouble sleeping, Jane knew, just as she had at the beginning. Just like she still did _now_.

"I'm going to try to get some sleep," he told the other two, standing up and stretching. He and Kurt exchanged nods, and then he smiled at Jane, pretending that he didn't see Weller's hand over hers.

"Good night, Roman," she smiled at him with as much warmth as she could. She was still nowhere near 100%, but she'd managed to distract herself from her thoughts at least enough to pretend that she was okay, for Roman's sake – even though she had a feeling that he knew something was wrong, and would probably ask her about it later.

"Good night," he replied, nodding at the pair of them with a slight smile.

They watched as Roman disappeared in the direction of his bedroom before either of them moved. Now alone, still they remained as still as statues for almost a full minute, Jane staring at her lap and Kurt watching her. She'd managed to gain only a very tenuous hold on her emotions, and now that they were alone, she could feel that hold slipping. She knew that a conversation was unavoidable, and she dreaded it.

"Jane," Kurt said softly.

That was _already_ almost too much for her. Just the way he said her name, with so much emotion behind it… She slipped her hand out from under his, bringing her feet up onto the couch as she drew her knees into her chest, hugging them tightly. She laid her left cheek on her knees and closed her eyes, having successfully curled herself up into a ball that matched the knot that her stomach had contracted itself into as soon as the words had left Roman's mouth. It was amazing, really, that she'd managed to behave almost normally for that long.

However, she hadn't completely shut Kurt out. The one concession she'd made, the one "in" that she'd left him, whether she'd realized it or not, was that her face still pointed in his direction. If she'd really wanted to shut him out completely, he reasoned, she would've turned away from him, or buried her face in her knees.

Seeing the intensity of her emotions, of course, only made his memories of that night stronger, despite the fact that he didn't _want_ to remember.

There was just so much pain... For _both_ of them. The emotions they'd felt that night hadn't been the exactly the same, but they'd both been in excruciating emotional pain.

 _I had the power to make it go differently,_ he thought. That was one of the hardest things about remembering that night – knowing that had he behaved differently, so many other things never would have happened.

As much as he still felt anger when he thought of that night, though nowhere near as much, he no longer felt it towards Jane. He felt it towards himself, and towards Sandstorm. As much as he would never have undone all the things that had been done to both of them, which had brought Jane into his life, what had been done had still hurt. Having it all triggered again… it wasn't easy.

He'd just been staring at her as she curled tightly into herself, sitting that way and watching her for several minutes, though his mind had been elsewhere. Now, finally actually _seeing_ her, he felt the familiar ache in his chest that came when he couldn't fix things, and he wondered if he _could_ make this better. He had to at least _try._ After all, this was Jane. He would have done _anything_ for her.

"Jane," he said softly, trying again. He swore he saw her squeeze her eyes just a little tighter when he said her name, and wondered if he'd just imagined it. Turning his body to face her, he folded his left leg up slightly in front of him and hesitated. He didn't want to make it worse, but he'd always followed his instincts with Jane, and his instincts were telling him to reach out to her.

His left hand moved first, coming to rest gently on her right shoulder. While for a split second he thought that she was going to grab his arm and pull him into some kind of hold, she was so tense, when the initial second of surprise passed, he felt her muscles relax ever so slightly. Taking that as a sign of progress, he moved his hand slowly to the base of her neck, so that he could move his thumb slowly across the skin there.

The tension was still radiating off of her, but he could feel that slowly, he was making progress. Next, he reached out his right hand, laying it lightly on her right elbow, which sat tensely near her right knee, getting much the same reaction he had the first time. Again, he felt a slight relaxation of the muscles under his fingers, which he took as encouragement. Sliding his hand away from him, along her arm, until he reached her left hand, which overlapped her right arm, holding onto it to secure herself in the ball she'd rolled into.

Again, he let his right hand sit lightly over her left, moving his thumb across her skin. Grasping it tightly seemed like too much just then, so he didn't try to. He sat there, now almost hugging her, with his arms almost halfway around her, feeling her breathing very deliberately.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, remembering how hatefully he'd looked at her that night. How much he'd actually _felt_ the hate towards her that night. He'd had a right to those feelings, perhaps, but she hadn't deserved to have them aimed at _her_. Not really. And she certainly _had_ deserved to have a chance to explain. He'd abused his power, and he knew that now. As many things as she had done wrong, his transgression, in his mind at least, was the far bigger one.

A shudder went through her then that was so strong, it made him wonder if there was something more serious wrong with her. When it stopped a few seconds later and she continued shaking slightly, it took him a second to realize that the movement continued because she was actually crying. Silently, so hard that it made her whole body shake. While his heart ached in dismay, in another way he felt relief. For a second he'd been afraid it was some kind of seizure.

His arms were already partially around her, and now he did the only thing he _could_ do when faced with a crying Jane that he was already holding onto. Winding his arms the rest of the way around her without another thought, he pulled her closer until she was leaning against him. While he knew that there was only so much he could do at the moment, it felt better to be holding onto her like this, even if it did mean feeling her shake, now almost uncontrollably, against him.

Leaning his cheek against her hair, he squeezed his arms tighter around her, feeling his own breathing become rapid and shallow. Jane wasn't the only one who was losing her composure, apparently. He tried to breathe more evenly, but found it more and more impossible as his thoughts assaulted him.

She'd lost track of what was happening for a few minutes, and things were only beginning to fade back in around her. It was a strange sensation, but she felt like she was watching herself from outside of her body. Watching Kurt reach for her, his arms moving slowly until they were partway around her, and then seeing him whisper something in her ear. Except that unlike what would make sense from the distance she saw it from, which would have been that she wouldn't have heard what he'd said, she could hear it perfectly in her ears. "I'm sorry." It was as though he was right there beside her.

 _Because he_ _ **is**_ _right there beside you,_ she reminded herself. After that, suddenly she saw everything from back inside her body, and she actually _felt_ his arms around her, realizing just how tightly he was holding on. She was surprised to feel herself shaking. The sensation felt strange until she realized that there was a reason for it: she was crying.

 _How disassociated_ _ **am**_ _I that I can't even feel my own emotions properly?_ She wondered, feeling slightly frightened of what was happening to her. Attempting to clear her mind, she tried to focus, telling herself to think not about herself, but about Kurt. He had always been the most solid thing in her life, which was why the memory of that night shook her so badly.

 _It's not that night anymore,_ she told herself insistently, even though it was all she could see in her mind.

 _Stop looking at that picture,_ she told herself. _That's all it is. An old picture._ _If you want to see where you are, open your eyes._

It was so simple, and yet, it was something that hadn't occurred to her. With a great deal of effort, she forced herself to open her eyes just a crack. Her vision was blurry from the tears in her eyes, and at first she couldn't figure out what she was looking at. Then she realized that she couldn't see much of anything because, as she suddenly also _felt_ , Kurt had pulled her close and was holding onto her surprisingly tightly. How had she not noticed that before?

With a sigh, she felt herself slowly begin to calm down, the sobs beginning to subside. As she did, she realized that the shaking that she had felt was not coming exclusively from her, but from him as well. For what felt like the millionth time in her relatively short memory, she felt a pain in her chest – a pain that she'd come to learn only recently was reserved for pain caused by, or on behalf of, Kurt. This time, it was the realization that he was hurting along with her that made the ache appear. Now it was time to do something about it.

Her eyes were already open, and she moved slowly to unclench herself from the ball into which she'd contracted herself, feeling as though she was only able to very deliberately relax one individual muscle at a time. This was going to take a while.

Kurt didn't immediately realize what was happening, because for a minute, he'd gotten so lost in his own guilty thoughts, they had drowned out his thoughts of what was happening to Jane. However, when he began to feel movement in his arms, his mind snapped back to attention. His breathing began to stabilize, and his attention turned away from himself.

 _Ho_ _HoHHH_

Lifting his head off her hers slowly, he was surprised to see that her eyes were now open. Her arms were loosening under his right arm, which he moved back slowly, his hand gliding along the line that her arms made around her knees. When he came to her left hand, his hand moved behind it to her right arm, covered by her left, and then ran back, away from him along the bare skin there to her right hand, which he plied gently from under her left arm, meeting no resistance. Lowering both of her arms, she raised her head, still looking at him carefully, as if she wasn't sure what to expect.

Suddenly, she felt very tired. Her entire body was sore from the exertion of tightening her muscles to the point that they couldn't get any tighter and holding them there, and now that she'd released all that tension, her muscles felt like jello. It was all she could do to hold herself up.

Though it was irrational, she knew, at that moment she felt completely defeated, and at some level she almost expected him to repeat what had happened that night. She heard the words echo in her mind, beginning with the line that Roman had very nearly recreated, and continuing through that whole conversation. She hadn't even realized that she _remembered_ that whole conversation. Or maybe she hadn't, not until just then.

 _I helped myself. Hope you don't mind._

 _I've been trying to call you. Are you... What happened?_

 _My father died._

 _I know, I got your message. I'm so sorry._

 _Are you?_

 _Of course I am. Kurt, s-something happened today and..._

 _It's funny that we still call you Jane. Isn't it? I get it. You don't really feel connected to Taylor. It... Was such a long time ago, wasn't it?_

 _What is that?_

 _It was Taylor's. It was her favorite doll. She took it everywhere. She couldn't sleep without it. So he buried her with it._

 _What? He buried her with it... Jane. My father... killed Taylor Shaw, 25 years ago. He told me, right before he died. So... if Taylor Shaw is dead..._ _ **Then who the hell are you?**_

 _I don't know._

 _Who are you?!_

 _I don't know. I don't know. But, Kurt, please..._

 _Turn around, get on your knees, and put your hands on your head._

 _I can explain._

 _You have the right to remain silent._

 _Kurt..._

 _Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law._

 _No, don't do this._

 _You have the right to an attorney._

 _You need to listen to me._

 _You said you remembered! You remembered what?! Fishing? Camping with us? How?! You lied to me. I let my father back into my life... into my home. I let him be around Sawyer! He killed her. And I let him back in... Because of you. So turn around... get on your knees... and put your hands on your head. I'm not gonna say it again. Do it. Put your hands on your head._

 _Kurt, please._

 _It's over. Whatever this is, whatever it was about... it's finished._

 _But..._

 _Jane Doe... you're under arrest.  
_

She'd begun to shake again somewhere during that flashback, and when she finally reached the end, the first thing she was conscious of was that there were tears on her cheeks, still flowing from her eyes. The next thing she realized was that once again, Kurt was holding onto her tightly. This time it felt more like a hug. She wasn't in her cocoon any longer, now she was just simply in his arms, which were wrapped around her tightly once again, the side of her head against his shoulder. Feeling as though she'd been released from whatever spell had come over her, she deliberately slowed her breathing, exhaling slowly.

"Hey," she heard him say as he leaned away to try to find an angle from which he could see her face, once again looking at her with concern. "Stay with me, okay?" Nodding weakly, she closed her eyes again, now completely out of energy. She'd thought that she was empty before, but this felt a hundred times worse. Maybe a thousand. She was in no shape to make mathematical comparisons, all she knew was that she couldn't move from the spot where she sat. But thanks to the fact that Kurt had pulled her tightly against him, there was no reason _for_ her to move. She was fine where she was. Better than _fine,_ even.

Now that she was conscious of her surroundings again, she noticed that he shifted his arms around her, smiling ever so slightly – all that she had the energy for – when gentle fingertips moved against the skin on the back of her neck. It was soothing, and she already felt herself getting drowsy. Pushing her eyes open, she fought the feeling. She didn't _want_ to go to sleep. She wanted to stay awake and savor this moment, because who knew if she'd ever have another one like it. With everything that had happened, she'd trained herself never to expect anything like this even once, never mind more than once. Not to mention the fact that she wanted to avoid the nightmares that were sure to haunt her that night, after everything that had happened in the past few hours.

He watched her struggle to open her eyes, and couldn't help but aim a bleary smile in her direction. He was pretty sure she was close to falling asleep as it was – he certainly was, and he was sure that she was much more tired than he was – and he wished she didn't seem so determined to fight it.

"You need to get some sleep," he observed.

Though she knew that he was right, in her head the words translated differently. _You need to let him go home and sleep,_ she told herself. _He does need to be functional tomorrow for work – he's the Assistant Director, after all._ As usual, there was no equivalent thought about _her_ well-being.

"I should let you get home. It's has to be late by now…" she started, glancing sideways to attempt to look at the clock, but lacking the energy to turn far enough to actually see it.

"It's… 12:30," he confirmed reluctantly, looking at his watch. He knew he _should_ get home, but sitting here with Jane in this condition… his own need for sleep was secondary. His need to know that Jane was okay was _far_ more important.

Sighing heavily, she forced herself to pick up her head off his shoulder, struggling to sit up. "Okay, we need to…" He let his hands slip from around her, seeing that she seemed determined to get up – though not because he _wanted_ to let go of her. Bringing them to rest on her shoulders lightly, he tried to make eye contact with her.

"Jane, there's no rush…" he protested quietly. He wasn't quite sure how to say that it was more important to him to know that she was okay than to go home, knowing that she would protest that she was fine, whether she was or not.

She was deliberately not meeting his eyes, because she got the feeling that if she did, she might just fall apart again. He knew her too well, after all. He knew when she was pretending, like she was now, and he never failed to call her on it. Just then she had no energy to protest.

 _So then why are you?_ she asked herself. Ignoring the question, she shook her head.

"I'm fine," she grumbled, knowing that she wasn't fooling him any more than she was fooling herself. "You're right, I need to get some sleep."

Kurt knew Jane, and her trouble with sleep had been the subject of conversation more than once in the past. He knew that she had had nightmares and avoided sleep because of them for a long time, though he didn't know about lately. He had a feeling, however, that it was going to be a rough night for her in that department after everything that had happened. It was hard to think about leaving her there to fend for herself… but what was the other choice?

Maybe there should have been alarm bells going off in his head, he would later realize in hindsight. But when Jane said that she needed to get some sleep, for some reason that he didn't understand, he simply took her at her word. When he looked back later, he would blame exhaustion or the fact that he didn't _want_ to believe that she'd been just saying what he wanted to hear…

"Are you sure?" he asked, staring at her with concern. She somehow forced herself to move toward the edge of the couch, his hands now falling all the way off of her as she moved. He continued to watch her as she stood up slowly, stretching and moving around the room, continuing not to look at him.

"Yeah," she called over her shoulder in his direction – still not making eye contact – in a voice that he could tell was forced.

With a sigh, he stood up slowly, walking over to where she was moving around, pretending to straighten up. She'd hung up her jacket, and moved a few little things around, but basically she was just keeping herself busy so that she wouldn't have to look at him.

"Jane," he said, standing still in the middle of the room and waiting until he had her attention before he spoke again. It took a minute before she realized that he was prepared to stand there until she looked at him, so finally, with a sigh, she gave in. Finally standing still, she met his eyes.

"I'm _fine_ ," she said defensively. "Really. I'm tired, but it's late, so that's _normal_. I'm going to go to bed as soon as you leave." She hated the words even as she came out of her mouth… hated the idea of going to sleep, and hated the idea of him leaving. Pushing aside the feeling of desperation for him to stay, she kept her expression carefully controlled. That desperate feeling – that she didn't want him to go – was something that she would never admit, because…

 _Why, exactly?_ she asked herself again.

 _Shut up,_ she huffed back inside her head.

On the outside, she simply smiled and did her best to project a calm she didn't feel whatsoever.

Kurt walked slowly to where he'd laid his jacket over the back of a chair, watching Jane all the while. He didn't quite believe her, but at the same time, she was insisting that she was _fine_ … He could tell her that he knew that she wasn't, but she was so goddamn stubborn… Knowing her, they'd go back and forth like that all night.

His jacket was on now, and he walked slowly towards the door, still studying Jane closely for anything that might tell him one way or the other what he should do. He knew better to leave her like this, and yet…

 _So why are you doing it, then?_ he demanded of himself. _She's this upset because of_ _ **you**_ _!_ But for some reason, his feet continued to propel him slowly to the door. His hand on the handle, he turned around and looked at her again, his eyes still searching her face for clues, but finding none.

"You _sure_ you're okay?" he asked seriously. He could feel his willpower slipping. If he was going to walk away from her, he needed to do it quickly.

She smiled tightly, hoping that he'd see it as just a tired smile and not the desperate one that it felt like. "I'm _fine,_ " she replied, in possibly her most convincing performance ever. Still, he eyed her suspiciously, and she willed herself not to break.

 _Not yet. At least wait until he leaves._

He turned the doorknob and then, before actually pulling he door open, he turned towards her. She'd stepped towards him, so she was much closer now. He took his hand off the doorknob and instead brought it to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Jane saw his hand moving toward her as if it was in slow motion, and she willed herself once again not to break into pieces. Now that he was reaching for her, she wasn't quite sure that she could do this – convince him that she was fine so that she could send him home – after all.

 _And why are you so desperate for him to go, anyway?_ she asked herself again. Ignoring the question, she took a deep breath as his fingers pushed the hair behind her ear and then sat lightly against her cheek. He leaned down and gave her perhaps the gentlest kiss in her memory, leaning back less than a minute later and looking into her eyes with concern.

"I'm okay, I swear," she told him before he had a chance to say anything. Still, he didn't quite believe her, however. Everything about her seemed to support her claim, but there was something off that he couldn't quite identify… "You need to get home and get some sleep," she reminded him again. "Come on… aren't you the one who was telling me that we'd see each other tomorrow?"

He blinked in surprise at the complete turnaround that had occurred in the past few hours. Again, something seemed off, but he couldn't put a finger on it. "Yeah," he said, distractedly, as he watched her carefully. Finally, he couldn't think of another reason to stall besides a gut feeling that he couldn't explain. "Good night, Jane," he said softly, once again grasping the doorknob and this time, slowly pulling it open.

"Good night," she whispered, the fake smile still firmly on her face. "See you at work in a few hours."

 _Where it will be as if nothing has changed,_ her mind supplied helpfully. It was true, of course, since they couldn't exactly treat work like a date, but it was pretty painful to have that pointed out at that moment.

Reluctantly, he stepped through the front door, forcing himself to take one step and then another on the sidewalk in front of the house.

After watching him take the first few steps, Jane closed the door. She couldn't do it anymore… couldn't pretend that she was okay.

Feeling as if every bit of strength had just flowed out of her through her feet into the floor, she took a step closer to the door, leaning her forehead against the smooth surface of the inside and focusing on not falling down. Just then she felt like she was going to break into a million pieces if she moved a single muscle, so she remained as still as she could. She knew that she needed to force herself to stand up, to move, but just then it felt impossible. At that moment, all the thoughts emptied from her mind except the sight of Kurt stepping through the door, and she wondered why she'd just insisted so hard that he go home. Now that she'd gotten what she wanted, she wondered why she'd wanted it in the first place.

 _Because he needs to go home and sleep, of course,_ her mind replied, but she and her mind both knew that that was a cop out answer. What she really wished, at that moment, was that she hadn't just sent him away.

It took a minute before she felt the tears leaking from her eyes. Slowly at first, and then faster.

All she could think about was how she really didn't _want_ to be alone just then. And yes, she could wake up Roman, if he was even sleeping, and she knew that he wouldn't be mad. He'd sit up with her all night, if that was what she wanted. The thing was… as much as she loved her brother, it wasn't Roman's company that she wanted. It would require far, far too much explanation to tell Roman why she was so upset just then, and she didn't have the energy for it. Not just that, he simply wasn't the person whose company would sooth her best.

 _Kurt's_ was.

Outside, hearing the door close behind him, Kurt made it about more two steps before he slowed to a stop. Suddenly, his feet simply refused to go any farther. He was rooted to the spot in which he stood, his mind racing. All he could see inside his head were Jane's eyes.

Suddenly, he realized why she'd seemed off. Besides the obvious fact that because he knew her so well and he _knew_ that she wasn't okay, all he could see in his head was her face. Specifically, her _eyes._ They were haunted. The expression in them wasn't anything he'd seen any time recently. No, it had reminded him of the early days, just after she'd first been found in Times Square. To put it simply, she looked terrified. She'd looked like the Jane that he'd known in the beginning, who could have broken so easily.

 _And I just walked out the door,_ he thought. _What's wrong with me?_

Now he stood still on the sidewalk, unsure, unable to make himself take another step away from her, but also unable to make himself turn around.

 _What the hell do I do now?_ his mind demanded. He stood still, taking deep breaths, waiting for the answer.


	4. This

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Blind spot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)**_

 _A/N: When I uploaded ch3, FFN was still having the same issue as when I uploaded ch2 for whatever reason, giving me errors and sadly, still not sending out notifications. But you made it here in the end, like Jane and Kurt, so I guess that's something. I'm hoping that_ _ **this**_ _chapter will post correctly… and yes, this is the LAST chapter of this story._

Jane's forehead was pressed against the door, and she wondered whether she would find the strength to move before she simply fell asleep and collapsed on the floor. Somehow, it didn't seem to matter too much either way at that moment.

Kurt, on the other hand, had finally managed to make his feet obey him. He took two steps, then two more, each pair of them just a little faster than the ones before them. Seconds later, he stopped again.

 _What am I doing?_ he asked himself.

The noise was loud, echoing painfully through Jane's head. It worked out, though, because anything quieter than that may not have gotten her attention. Her whole head felt as though it was vibrating with the force of the sound.

 _What could possibly be making that noise?_ she wondered.

 _The door,_ she told herself quickly. _Someone's knocking on the door._

She was confused, but too tired to think about it. Not even bothering to look in the peephole, she stepped back just far enough to open the door and was surprised to see Kurt standing in front of her again. He looked upset, and his face seemed to fall even farther when he saw her. Or maybe that was her imagination. At this point, she couldn't even trust her own judgement about anything.

"What… what's wrong?" she forced out, her voice just barely cooperating. Actually, she wasn't entirely convinced that she was loud enough for him to hear her.

"I realized… I forgot to ask you something," he said, glancing over her shoulder into the entryway. It would really be nice not to have an audience for this conversation, after all, and with Roman's detail sitting outside, that was impossible where they were. It was the same as it had been so long ago with Jane's detail – slightly strange to know that his comings and goings were being surveilled, but worth it to know that she was safe… Or so he'd thought, before he'd found out that she snuck out when they weren't looking. The one time she'd really needed her detail, they hadn't been there, and neither had _he_.

Taking a step back, she opened the door wide enough for him to come in, her eyes not leaving him as he walked past her. Instead, she simply turned around to face him, now on the other side of her, leaning her back against the door to close it. She needed it to hold her up, anyway. It took a few seconds before she remembered that she was crying again, which she'd fought so hard to stop in order to get Kurt to agree to go… He'd noticed, too, she could tell, but hadn't commented on it yet.

Kurt shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, taking a step closer to Jane. Her back was against the door, and she looked… _overcome_ , but didn't seem bothered when he stepped closer. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him questioningly, saying nothing. They were closer now, not _quite_ in each other's personal space, but nearly.

He was trying to figure out the best way to get her to tell him the truth. _Just ask_ , the voice in his head told him impatiently.

"I need to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth. I don't mind either way, I just… I don't want you to feel like you have to lie, okay?" he told her.

"Okay," she replied in barely a whisper, with a nod of her head that wasn't much bigger. She was confused, because what could he possibly be talking about? What was so urgent that he'd just come back inside in the middle of the night and just made her promise to tell the truth? Yes, she'd lied to him in the past, but she'd promised herself not to do that anymore.

 _Besides the lie of omission about Emma Shaw,_ the voice in her head told her, _I can think of a lie you just told him. The one where you told him to go home because you were fine, that you were just tired._

She ignored the voice. After all, she'd been trying to convince herself that she was fine for as long as she could remember. It was the only way that she could actually make herself _be_ fine, or anything resembling it. Surely that didn't really count?

He took half a step closer to her, smiling down at her sadly, somehow keeping his hands at his sides. It was hard to resist the urge to pull her closer, but he didn't want her to feel pressured, one way or the other. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Jane, do you _want_ me to go home?"

 _I already told him,_ she thought, confused, but then stopped. It was only then that she realized that what she had told him, "You should go home," and "I want you to go home," were not quite the same thing. _Of course_ she hadn't told him that she _wanted_ him to go home… she _didn't_ want that.

Looking back up at him, she realized what he was doing. She felt her breathing become shallower, and willed herself to keep her composure somehow, not wanting to fall apart again. Her eyes went to the floor before she answered, not wanting to look at him when she admitted the truth, for some reason.

"No," she said, in a voice so tiny that if he hadn't been waiting for her answer, he probably wouldn't have heard it. The accompanying shake of her head was just as small, barely a movement, one that easily could have been mistaken for a twitch.

His question now answered, Kurt gave himself permission to stop resisting the urge to reach for her, his arms going around her securely, her arms wrapping around him slowly as well. He could feel that her breathing was uneven, and he chided himself for even _thinking_ about leaving her like this. Didn't he know her well enough to know better? Deciding that it didn't matter, since he _hadn't_ left, he focused on the present.

"Okay, good," he said softly, "because I don't want to leave knowing you're not okay. Especially because it's my fault." When he felt her attempt to protest, shaking her head weakly against him, he added, "And you won't talk me out of that, so don't bother trying." If he didn't know better, he'd have said that, after a pause, she chuckled slightly against him, relaxing just a little.

She hated to admit how much better she felt when he was holding onto her like this. It was difficult to remember why she'd thought that sending him home was a good idea…

 _You didn't want to admit that you needed him, as usual_ , the voice in her head told her. She hated that it was right.

"We both need sleep. Like, now," he said, leaving no room for argument. Leaning back to look at her and waiting until she looked back up at him, he said, "I can crash on the couch, if you—"

But she was already shaking her head, her expression pained. She offered no explanation, only one insistent word. "No," she said simply, and he swore that she held onto him a little tighter just then, as if she thought that he was going to try to move away from her.

The thought of him being there made her feel infinitely better about trying to sleep, but the thought of him on the couch – or anywhere else that far away – well, it would have been almost as though he wasn't there. It was hard to admit to herself that the only way she could even imagine herself voluntarily sleeping was if he was there with her. Not in another room, but right there beside her.

Smiling, he smoothed a hand down over her hair, then returned it to its place, against her back. "Okay," he replied simply. "So let's go get ready." His arms fell from around her reluctantly, but he knew that that was the only way to get them both moving. Sure enough, once he'd let go of her, Jane turned and started towards her bedroom, Kurt locking her front door before following close behind her.

At the bedroom door, he hesitated, leaning against the doorframe with one shoulder, arms crossed as he watched her carefully. She'd said that she didn't want him on the couch, but if she changed her mind, that would still be okay. He just wanted to make sure that she was comfortable with whatever arrangement they ended up with. Their relationship – whatever it was – was too important to him for him to do anything to jeopardize it. After all, he'd done enough of that in the past. They were lucky to have a second chance now.

She stepped inside the room, looking around helplessly, as if she didn't quite know what to do. It wasn't as though he hadn't ever seen the room before, though it had been a long time. She'd had more things back then. Now, the room was practically bare – it had been ever since she'd been brought back to the FBI. After all, what was the point of having things? Eventually, it would all just go away again. She didn't like to think that way, but it was hard not to.

Bending down to pick up her pajamas off the end of the bed, she turned back to look at him. "I'm just going to…" she said softly, looking toward the bathroom door. He nodded, smiling slightly.

"You can still change your mind, you know," he told her softly.

She looked confused as she asked, "About what?"

"About me sleeping on the couch," he told her.

Confusion was replaced by certainty this time, as she shook her head. "No," she said, much more certainly. "I don't want to change my mind."

"Okay," he replied calmly. "But it's okay if you do. Just… try to do it before I fall asleep, is all I ask."

Her smile curled larger then, showing genuine amusement.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said with a smirk, walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

He leaned against the doorframe for a few more seconds, then told himself that there was no reason to stay there. She'd told him twice already that she wanted him to stay there with her, after all. Walking into the room slowly, he found that there wasn't much else to do but sit down on the end of the bed, and he chose a spot facing the bathroom door. That way he didn't have to look too hard at how empty the room was.

 _That part is my fault, too,_ he couldn't help but think. He made a mental note to do something about it. No one should live like that, and he certainly couldn't let Jane think that she didn't deserve more. Quite the opposite. He would do better, he told himself.

Leaning forward, his forearms braced against his knees, he felt exhaustion creeping over him. He'd known that it was late, and that he was tired, but he was feeling it even more now that he was sitting down. The clock told him that it was closing in on 1:00 am. Not his latest night, but late nonetheless. Besides, work had a way of taking it all out of him, and thanks to his insane hours, he was pretty much perpetually exhausted these days – and had been basically since they'd put a name to Sandstorm. Since Jane had come back.

The door in front of him creaked open, and Kurt looked up to see Jane emerge from the bathroom, holding the clothes she'd been wearing. Dropping them into the hamper that sat beside the bathroom door, she paused and looked at him. Now she was wearing a black tank top and gray pajama pants. Very simple and very plain – completely the opposite of Jane herself, her ornate tattoos standing out from beneath the fabric. She was neither simple nor plain, and never had been.

He couldn't help but smile up at her as she watched him with a small, nervous smile of her own. After a few seconds, she walked over to sit beside him on the end of the bed, her head immediately falling on his right shoulder as she let out a sigh. He took her left hand, palm up, and, cradled it in his left hand gently. Then he curved the fingers of his right hand around her fingers lightly, his thumb tracing invisible shapes in her palm, so lightly that she barely felt it. The movement made her stomach flutter.

Almost immediately, she felt her eyes closing. She was _so_ tired, and what he was doing was _so_ soothing, after all… At that moment, her regular impulse to keep herself awake at all costs simply failed to kick in. She didn't need it anyway. Not with Kurt there.

"Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow?" he asked, hating to think about getting up again, but knowing that, if nothing else, they were going to have to stand up in order to go and lay down in the bed.

He felt her sigh against his shoulder, and couldn't help but think that she sounded slightly defeated. "I don't know," she replied. "I guess there could be one…" _Really, I should know this…_ she thought. _But why_ _ **would**_ _there be one? Why would I ever need one?_

 _Don't be like that,_ the voice in her head told her kindly. _This is_ _ **exactly**_ _why you would need one. And it's not your imagination. He's really here, after all._

As far as she was concerned, the conversation happening in her head was just proof that she was so tired she was getting delirious.

"It's okay, I'll take a look," he assured her, holding her hand securely in between both of his for a moment, then turning to lean his face against the top of her head, inhaling deeply. But they couldn't stay like that, he knew, so he forced himself to pick his head up, and let go of her hand with his left hand, standing up and then pulling her up gently with his right hand, finally letting that one go as well and taking a slow step away from her.

"You go and get in bed," he told her. "I'll be right out."

"Which side do you usually sleep on?" she asked, not even sure where the question came from. It was such a small concern, and yet… it was just one more thing to know about him.

Stopping outside the bathroom and turning back around to look at her, he smiled slightly. "Lately, the left, but only because it's the closest side to the door of my bedroom, and I tend to collapse as soon as I can. Before that…" his voice trailed off.

He felt them veering into sensitive territory, and his smile disappeared. He was left looking at her seriously, hating the fact that after all this time that he'd had feelings for Jane, he'd slept with two women who were _not Jane_. It wasn't that simple, of course, and really, he hadn't even realized how he felt about her at the beginning… but when it came down to it, that was really what had happened. Shaking his head he said, "It never mattered that much. I'm adaptable."

She found that she was sorry that she'd asked the question, because while she could stomach the idea of Allie – that decision of his she could _at least_ understand – it made her feel physically sick to think of him with Nas. It was almost as though Kurt being with her after everything that had happened… it almost felt like it negated the connection they'd had from the beginning. Of course, it didn't, and she knew that after everything she'd done, she had no right to the flare of jealousy that she felt then… but that didn't stop her from feeling it.

 _You did this to yourself_ , she told herself wryly. It was true. After all, they'd been so close in the beginning, and if she'd made different decisions along the way… The truth was that if she'd been honest with Kurt all along, Nas would never have come to them. If only Jane had just made different choices. Of course, thinking things like this didn't help – not one bit – so she did her best to smile at him… or at the very least, not to look as crushed as she felt all of a sudden.

"What about you?" he asked her, watching carefully as the wheels in her head seemed to turn, taking her somewhere she didn't seem to want to go, based on the look on her face. It took her a second to emerge from the depths of her thoughts and realize what he was asking her. What about me _what_?

Working backwards quickly, she figured out the question. "The middle, for the most part, though depending on my dreams, sometimes I wake up all the way on one side or the other. Before that…" she shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, even though the admission stung, "I don't remember." She didn't have that problem as much as she used to, since she had more memories now – though many of the new ones were almost as terrible as the ones she'd retrieved from Remi's collection – but there were still times when her lack of a past felt like a burden that she would never overcome.

She'd called them dreams just then, but Kurt recognized that description for what it actually referred to – nightmares.

He just nodded, and they looked at each other for a few more seconds. Recognizing the sensitive nature of the situation for what it was, he focused on smiling at her with a look that told her that it was all okay.

"Climb into bed," he told her again, softly, "I'll be out in a second." Closing the bathroom door behind him, he couldn't help but think that _that_ wasn't something he had expected to be saying to her tonight when they'd met up with Patterson and Zapata at the bar earlier. The thought made him smile.

She stood and watched him close the door, slightly in awe that this was the way she was ending her day. It was most certainly unexpected, that much was for sure.

Walking around to the right side of the bed, she pulled the covers back and sat down, then moved over slowly from the edge, so that she was partway toward the middle. She didn't really know how far over she should be, or how much space she should leave. It was a big bed, but how exactly did this work? She sat cross legged, not quite in the middle of the bed, not sure what to do and feeling more than a little anxious. Okay, _very_ anxious.

Not more than a minute later, the door opened again and Kurt emerged. "Good news," he told her, heading for the wall by the door to turn off the light, "you _did_ have an extra toothbrush in there. I found it in a drawer."

Looking up from where she sat, she couldn't help but smile at him, if a little nervously. "That is good news," she managed, attempting to keep her eyes on him as he walked back across the darkened room. Light flooded in through the window from the streetlight outside, and she could see him unbuttoning his shirt, the white of a plan t-shirt visible underneath. He was wearing jeans, she noticed, as he dropped his shirt on the floor – there wasn't really anything in the room to drape it over, and it was so late that it didn't matter to him anyway.

"I'm sorry I don't have any pajamas that would fit you," she told him. He shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"No big deal," he insisted.

"You, uh…" she started, and felt herself turning pink before any other words had even left her mouth. "I doubt it's very comfortable to sleep in jeans…" She was staring at the covers in front of her, fidgeting with the blankets and trying to get the words out. "And considering that you saw naked pictures of me pretty much the first day we met, I figure…" She swallowed hard, surprised that she'd managed to form the thought coherently.

"So it's my turn?" he asked in amusement, a goofy grin on his face. He was genuinely surprised at her.

She felt her face burning, and wasn't sure whether he could see just how pink she was in the dim light. "No, I… um… I mean…" She stuttered, punching him playfully in the arm. "I just meant… don't feel like you have to wear them for my benefit. I'm sure it's more comfortable without them. We're both adults."

"I'm going to remember that you told me to take my clothes off," he chuckled quietly as he stood back up to take off his jeans. She was absolutely right, it wouldn't be very comfortable. And it didn't change his intentions – which were solely to make sure that she was okay. The rest of it… well, he wouldn't rule it out for a future date.

Her mouth opened and she stared at him for a second, before shaking her head and finally, relaxing slightly into a smile. As tired as she was, she remained sitting up, still slightly tense. Pulling back the blankets, he slid under them and scooted towards her, lying down on his left side. The blankets were bunched up in front of her, and he reached over and slipped them over her lap, looking up at her for a few seconds.

"You can still change your mind," he reminded her.

Smiling and shaking her head at him, she turned her head in his direction, surprised at the intensity with which he was looking up at her. For a second, it took her breath away.

"I don't want to change my mind," she told him in a whisper.

"Okay, good," she said with a smile. "Now, time to lie down," he added, patting the space beside him, which was behind her since she was still sitting up. "You need to sleep." He saw her tense at the mention of her sleeping.

"So do you," she told him, trying to change the focus of the conversation.

"Exactly," he told her, "which isn't going to happen as long as you're sitting up, looking worried." When she didn't move, his expression and his voice both softened. "Come on… What's the worst thing that can happen?"

Sighing in pretend exasperation with him for being right, she smiled as she made a conscious effort to relax. Slowly she shifted herself until she was lying down, close in front of him, looking into his eyes.

"You can still change your mind," he whispered.

"I'm beginning to think you _want_ me to change my mind," she teased him.

"Not at all," he said, shaking his head. "On the contrary, I like it here… But if you want me to go, I'll go."

"I don't want you to go, okay?" she whispered in exasperation.

"Okay," he replied with a chuckle, reaching for her right hand with his left, pulling it into the space between them. Once again, he curled his fingers around the side of her hand, his thumb immediately beginning to trace lines inside her palm. The sensation was even more relaxing now than it had been the first time, since she was now lying down and looking into his eyes. The feeling made her smile, tiredness creeping quickly into every inch of her body. It was only seconds before she found that she couldn't keep her eyes open, despite her best attempts.

Because he knew how she felt about sleep, he hadn't expected her to start falling asleep so quickly – but maybe she was even more worn out than he'd assumed. "Good night, Jane," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her gently. Moving back only a fraction of an inch, he let his face rest so close to hers that he wasn't entirely convinced their noses _weren't_ touching, resting there for a few seconds, then opening his eyes and watching the smile on her face grow even wider. He was surprised when her eyes fluttered halfway open, just enough for her to look into his, then to close the tiny distance between them and plant a short but sweet, sleepy kiss on his lips before snuggling closer to him.

Feeling too tired to feel self-conscious just then as she began to drift off, she had the fleeting feeling that tomorrow morning she might be slightly embarrassed by how the evening had ended, but couldn't bring herself to care. After all, at that particular moment, it was hard to convince herself that something that felt so perfect was anything but just that – perfect.

 _You know better than to believe that perfect is even possible for you,_ the cautious voice in her head reminded her. _Haven't you been through enough to know better?_

 _All I know is,_ she thought in reply, _living like that is exhausting. This may be a mistake, but… what if it's not? I know what it's like to_ _ **lose**_ _this without even having had it – to lose_ _ **him**_ _– and now I'd like to know what it's like to_ _ **have**_ _it. Even if it doesn't work. This feeling is worth the risk._

It was something of a revelation, something that she stumbled upon only in her last few seconds of consciousness, which allowed her to go to sleep with a smile on her face.

He moved his head back onto his pillow, scooting it forward so that his pillow touched the edge of hers, then leaning forward until there was less than an inch between their noses. She'd already moved herself forward, closer to him, and tucked her head against him. Reaching his free hand lightly over her waist, he couldn't help the feeling that this was simply perfect. Like everything else with Jane, it had taken something rather hellish – their (mostly _her_ ) flashbacks of that horrible night – but it had given them something heavenly – _ending up here_. Attempting to appreciate the irony, he felt his mind shutting down faster than he wanted it to. Jane wasn't the only one who was exhausted, after all. He pulled her towards him protectively as he surrendered to sleep as well.

It seemed like no time later at all that Jane felt herself waking up. She still felt exhausted, which was normal. After all, she never really slept long enough to feel refreshed, only barely long enough for her body to recharge just enough to function. However, along with her regular feeling of exhaustion, she felt something else, something she couldn't identify. Laying still and trying to figure out the difference, she suddenly felt herself being shifted slightly, and it all came flooding back to her.

Peering back over her shoulder, she saw the edge of Kurt's forehead and couldn't help but smile. They'd shifted in their sleep, and he was now curled up behind her, his arm around her waist, holding her close. She leaned her head back against his face, suddenly feeling like she simply wasn't close _enough_ to him – which seemed silly since they were already _so_ close together – and to her surprise, felt him kiss the back of her head.

"Don't be awake yet," he murmured from behind her. "This is too perfect for it to be morning yet." There was certainly no arguing with that logic, as far as she was concerned. Besides, it was still just as dark outside as it had been when they'd gone to bed. She could have moved to look at the clock, but… she was so absolutely happy with where she was, knowing the time just didn't seem like a good enough reason to move. Even more than that, moving seemed like something that would actually spoil this feeling. She didn't really _want_ to know how close they were to having to get up. In this case, ignorance was bliss.

"Okay," she whispered tiredly, "but we can't sleep all day. My boss is going to wonder if I don't show up for work."

"I'll deal with your boss," he said, moving closer to her ear to whisper beside it. "It's not time to get up yet. Just… go back to sleep."

"I'll try," she replied, feeling strange talking to him when he was behind her. "But being awake _is_ a pretty great feeling right now." When he chuckled, she felt the rumble through her whole body, and she felt her chest ache a little – but this time with happiness. Closing her eyes, she inhaled slowly and deeply, as if somehow she could capture everything about this moment and freeze it in time by doing so.

He felt the change in her breathing, and instinctively tightened his arm around her protectively. "You okay?" he asked beside her ear.

"No," she whispered, and for a second she felt him tense. But when she added, "I'm _so_ much better than okay," he relaxed immediately and grinned at her humor. The low rumble of his chuckle moved through her again then as he shook his head, leaning his forehead against her hair, wishing that this day wasn't like all the others – that they wouldn't soon have to get up and save the world from Sandstorm again, or at least try. It would be so much better to just stay exactly where they were for as long as possible.

 _But you're here now,_ the voice in his head reminded him. _Whatever else happens, you're here at this moment. With Jane. And that's already more than you thought you'd ever have, after everything you two have been through._ Smiling so hard he wondered if she could feel it through the back of her head, he kissed her hair and pulled his arm more tightly around her. It simply could not get more perfect than this.

 _What if it can?_ the voice in his head asked.

 _Then I'm even luckier than I thought_ , he replied silently as he felt himself drifting back to sleep.

Jane had been awake for a while now, and noticed when his arm loosened slightly around her and his breathing slowed down. He'd gone back to sleep, she could tell. In some ways she wanted to do that too, but in other ways, she wanted to drink in every moment possible of this feeling. After all, she had a lot of bad memories to make up for. This feeling was even better than she could have anticipated, and she focused on savoring it the best she could. However, she allowed herself to close her eyes, reasoning that since he was behind her, she wasn't missing out on anything, anyway. Before she knew it, she felt herself getting sleepy again, despite her determination to stay awake and enjoy this feeling.

Later, she knew, they would have to get up, working side by side and yet painfully far away, possibly putting their lives in danger, in order to protect themselves, each other and millions of other people. But that was later.

Right now, there was only the two of them, and that was perhaps the best feeling in the world, as far as she was concerned. Her last thought before she fell asleep once more was that despite everything that had gone wrong in her life – and in Remi's – the most important thing, and perhaps the most unlikely, the one that made everything else seem unimportant, had gone right.

 _This._

 _A/N: I know, I know, you don't want me to end it there. But this was never going to be a long fic. Originally I just wanted to write the kiss scene that we didn't get in the bar in 219, but you guys pretty much know by now that I have trouble stopping at one scene. You probably also know by now that whatever I come up with next, I'll probably just continue to write other versions of these two getting together – I've noticed that that's all I really do. :) So don't worry, I'm sure inspiration will strike me again soon. In the meantime, I'll go back to updating I See You, and maybe even get more than two chapters done before I start something else. LOL! (Maybe. But the way I've been going, I wouldn't put money on it.) Thank you all for once again being such a wonderful, supportive audience. Blindspot fans really are the best._


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